


On the Same Page

by DraconisWing24441



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M, Pining, Post Episode: s05e20 Enemy at the Gate, The boys are idiots, Wedding Planning, off world troubles happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-05 06:33:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 34,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15858171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DraconisWing24441/pseuds/DraconisWing24441
Summary: John's been in love with his best friend for years but he's never done anything about it. First he didn't dare what with DADT, then when that was repealed, Rodney was dating Keller. Now Rodney's getting married to Keller and wants John as his best man. Now John has to deal with the troubles that come with living in Pegasus and helping Rodney with wedding planning while also keeping a lid on his own emotions. As it turns out, he's not too good at that last one.





	1. Chapter One

John stared at Rodney, trying to pretend he hadn’t just heard what he thought he’d just heard.  Because there was no way this was happening to him right now, not again.

“I figured, we’re heading back to Earth for a few days anyway thanks to the IOA forcing us to use our time off, so this is the perfect time.”

“To buy an engagement ring.”  John knew his tone was a little incredulous but he really couldn’t bring himself to be too excited about this sudden turn of events.

Rodney shrugged.  “Well, yeah.  I mean, Jennifer and I have been together for about five years now, which is longer than Katie and me when I planned to propose to her, if you’ll remember.  I think it’s time.  Plus, I’m pretty sure she’s been dropping hints for a few months now.”

John felt a rushing in his ears.  “Right.  And you want my help picking it out because . . . ?”

“Because, I don’t know.  Because you have no plans for your time off and I need someone who has an idea of what kind of jewelry women like?”

John knew it had been a mistake to mention his ex-wife to the team.  He resisted the urge to run his hand through his hair.  He tried for one last attempt to get out of the situation.  “I was going to go up to the mountains, do a little snowboarding.  Dave’s coming by for a few days.”

Rodney’s face fell.  “Oh.  Oh, yeah, no problem.  That’s—that’s fine.  I can, uh, I can go on my own.  Go on; spend time with your brother.  I know you don’t get enough.”  He started for the door and John made a face.

Fuck.  He hated when he hurt Rodney’s feelings.  “Alright!” he reluctantly called after Rodney’s retreating back.

Rodney spun around.  “What?”

John bit back a sigh and forced a smile to his face.  “I’ll go with you and offer my opinion on rings, for whatever it’s worth.”  He lifted one shoulder in a partial shrug.  “How long can it take, right?”

Rodney beamed at him.  “Perfect!  Thanks, John.  We can go after the IOA debrief.”  Rodney gave him a grateful smile then left.

John sank onto his bed and dropped his face in his hands.  Fuck. 

* * *

“Well that took longer than I expected.” 

John tossed his duffel into the back of the military jeep and replied, “What did you expect?  The IOA doesn’t like when we have opinions, let alone make a decision without their approval.  Of course they were going to grill us on everything.”  He hoisted himself into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

Rodney huffed as he climbed in.  “Well, I thought since we had Woolsey that they’d, you know, go a little easier on us.”

John rolled his eyes as he pulled out of the motor pool and onto the road that led to the local highway.  “You’re not serious.”

“I am very serious!”  Rodney shot him a look.  “I have plans for my time off and you can’t expect me to not be annoyed that they kept us for three days, going over things that did not need our presence.”

John frowned.  Right.  Plans.  Like picking out an engagement ring for Keller.  “You’d miss Atlantis before long, anyway, Rodney.”

Rodney settled back against the seat and gave in, “Yeah, alright, I would.  But still.  _Three_ days?  It’s a little excessive, isn’t it?”

John merged onto the highway, grateful that it was the middle of the day and they wouldn’t have to deal with rush hour traffic.  “You should be part of a full military debrief or being on call for a mission.  Those things could go for weeks.”

“Hmpf.” 

John didn’t respond and they rode the rest of the way into town in silence.  At the exit, John asked, “Did you have a particular place in mind or did you want me to just drive around town until we find a jeweler?”  Better to get this over with before he had to really think about it.

Rodney pulled out his phone.  “I did a search of local jewelers in between meetings.  There’s a Berges Jewelry Design over on South Nevada Avenue.  Why don’t we start there?  It’s on the way to the airport, too.”

Start?  Oh god, were they going to have to go to more than one?  He didn’t think he could handle more than one.  John took a breath and said, “Right.  Directions?”

“Oh!  Oh, right.  Um, take a left at the next intersection,” Rodney said, fiddling with his phone.

John followed Rodney’s directions until a building appeared on the right with a large sign out front that showed the business name and a lit up diamond ring.  He pulled into the lot and shut the jeep off, shoving the keys into his pocket as they headed for the front doors.

A woman called out, “Be right with you,” as soon as they walked in.

John shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and gave the place a quick onceover.  Cases of jewelry covered three sides of the building with lots of spotlights, no doubt to show off the expensive rocks in ‘em, John thought a bit bitterly.  He’d thought he was done with this crap when he and Nancy divorced.  How ironic that he would be helping his best friend shop for an engagement ring for his girlfriend while John was in love with said best friend.  God, there were times he was certain the universe hated him.  John continued his perusal as he trailed after Rodney to the cases on the right.  More cases along the walls, mostly necklaces; someone off to the back left either fixing a ring or setting a gem in it, judging by the young couple hovering.  There were four other people looking around.  John rested his hip against the case, crossed his arms over his chest, and shot a quick, disinterested look down—rings.  Lots of rings.  Gold.  Silver.  Diamond, ruby, emerald, multiple gems.  He looked away as Rodney leaned over to look at some.

“Hello!”  A young-ish woman appeared on the other side of the case, her smile and voice bright.  Too bright.  John fought the urge to scowl in an attempt to get her to tone it down.  “My name’s Becky.  What can I help you gentlemen with today?”

Without looking up, Rodney said, “I’m looking for an engagement ring.”

The woman’s smile faltered and her gaze shot between them.  “Well, it’s a little unorthodox to bring your fiancé with you to pick it out, but I’m happy to help.”

John’s foot slipped and he caught himself by grabbing the edge of the case, his palm hitting the glass top with a loud smack.  Rodney’s head shot up to look at Becky then at him then back at Becky.  Rodney turned red and started shaking his head.

“No, no, no, no, no, we’re—we’re not—he’s not—” Rodney started, stumbling over himself in an effort to explain.

John found his voice and managed, “We’re not together.”  He was almost sure his face was bright red.  The annoying little voice in his head added _and whose fault is that?_   Shut up, he firmly told himself.  He also found himself a little hurt that Rodney had rushed to deny things so quickly.

Rodney’s hands flailed.  “Right, right.  What he said.”

Becky’s smile had totally fallen by now.  She clapped a hand to her mouth.  “Ohmygod, I’m _so_ sorry!  I shouldn’t have assumed; I just, you know.  When two people come into a jeweler’s together, I just automatically assume they’re a couple.  Oh my god, I am so _so_ sorry, please forgive me.”  She looked around and lowered her voice, “Please don’t ask to see my supervisor; I really didn’t mean any harm by it, I promise!”

Rodney gave John a look and mouthed _help_.  John sighed.  He did emotions worse than Rodney did—made apparent by the fact that John was pining for his best friend and said best friend was getting engaged to someone else.  “Look, Becky?”  She nodded.  “Right.  We don’t need to talk to your supervisor.  I’m just here to help my friend pick out a ring for his girlfriend, okay?  Can you help him out?”  John clapped a hand on Rodney’s shoulder before he thought about it but it was too late to take it back.  Rodney’s shoulder was warm under his hand and John found himself leaning in a bit.

Becky’s eyes lingered on his hand, then back up at him and smiled, although it shook a little.  She turned to Rodney.  “How wonderful!  Do you have any thoughts as to what she’d like?”

Rodney cleared his throat and went back to leaning over the case.  John returned his hand to his pocket and shifted a foot or so away from him, just to be safe.  No more touching, John reminded himself.  He had to put up boundaries or he’d do something he would really regret.  Becky pulled out a tray and set it on the counter for Rodney to look at more closely.

As Rodney and Becky talked rings, John leaned back against a case and pulled out his phone.  He downloaded a Sudoku app to pass the time and hopefully distract himself from the tightening in his chest as Rodney and Becky discussed rings. 

“John, what do you think?”

John blinked and looked up from his phone to find Rodney and Becky staring at him in anticipation.  Fuck, what did he miss?  “What?”

Rodney scowled at him and gestured to his left.  “The rings, John.  I can’t decide; what do you think?”

John looked at the three rings sitting on the top of the counter.  Honestly, they all looked the same to him.  He shrugged.  “They all look nice.”

Rodney huffed, “I don’t want _nice_ ; I want perfect.  I thought you were going to be helpful.”

“I don’t know her well enough to know what kind of ring she’d like, McKay,” John said, exasperated.  _Nor do I want to help pick out a ring for the woman who stole you from me._   Never mind the fact that John never actually told Rodney how he felt.

He’d wanted to, several times over the years, but there was always something keeping him from doing so.  The biggest reason had been Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.  For years, he’d lived in fear of someone figuring out he was gay and being booted from Atlantis, from the military.  When Atlantis had gotten word that the U.S. had repealed it?  Best day of his life, because it meant he didn’t have to worry about losing everything by admitting his feelings.

Until he’d walked into Rodney’s lab one day to find Rodney kissing Keller.

John had felt his heart snap in that instant and instantly spun around to go find Zelenka to steal some of his moonshine.  Since then, John had refused to let himself feel or show anything that would go beyond the friendship he and Rodney had.  In fact, he’d found himself pulling away over time, avoiding them whenever they were together unless it was unavoidable.  It hurt too much, but he refused to be that person that ruined a good thing for a friend—a best friend—just because he was hurting.  No way.  Rodney deserved better than that.

Hell, he deserved better than Keller, but no way in hell would John say _that_.

Rodney frowned down at the rings, reached out to twist one uncertainly.  “Apparently neither do I.”

Jerked from his thoughts, John looked at his friend, rolled his eyes lightly, then said, “Close your eyes.”

“What?  Why?”

“Just do it.”  Rodney looked at him dubiously.  “Do it, Rodney.”

“Fine,” Rodney muttered, and closed his eyes.

Ignoring Becky, John put his phone back in his pocket and reached out to rearrange the rings.  John made sure Rodney knew he was moving them around but he put them all back in the exact same spots as before.  “Pick one.”  Rodney started to open his eyes and John added, “Eyes closed.”

“How am I supposed to pick one if I can’t see?”

“Stick your hand out until you hit one of ‘em.”

“This is a stupid idea.”

“You asked for my help.  This is me helping.  Now would you do it already?  I’ve got a flight to catch.”

A scowl crossed Rodney’s face but he cautiously lifted a hand until it was hovering over the counter.  His hand jerked awkwardly as he attempted to find the rings blind.  After a few seconds, his thumb caught the band of one and his eyes flew open.  Becky plucked it off the counter and handed it to him.  Rodney studied it and said in a surprised voice, “Oh.”

“There you go,” John said, leaning against the counter again.  “Your subconscious picked out the right ring.  Are we good now?”

Rodney stared at the ring for a little while longer but John refused to look at him.  This was hard enough without seeing Rodney’s emotions in his expression—the man couldn’t hide what he was feeling to save his life.  Something John normally loved but not in this case.

Rodney thrust his hand out to Becky.  “I’ll take this one.”

Becky smiled as she took it.  “A beautiful ring.  Your girlfriend’s a lucky woman.”

Yeah, yeah, John thought as he followed them to the register.  Unfortunately, he agreed with Becky.  Keller was damn lucky to have Rodney.  Lucky John was a coward.

* * *

John gripped the strap of his duffel bag as he handed over the keys to the airport valet.  “Call Peterson AFB,” he advised the young man.  “Get them to send someone to take it back to the base.”

The valet nodded, clutching the keys tight in his fist.  “Yes, sir.  Have a good flight.”

John nodded and joined Rodney in the airport.  Luckily, he’d bought his ticket the day they’d arrived on Earth so he already had a two and a half hour flight booked from Colorado Springs Airport up to Yampa Valley Airport.  From there he would pick up his rental jeep and drive to Steamboat Ski Resort where Dave would be waiting.  He and Dave were still a little uncomfortable around each other since Dad’s funeral but they’d been making an effort, which meant a lot that Dave was willing to try. 

They found a relatively empty spot in the middle and John jerked a thumb to the side.  “My gate’s that way.”

Rodney nodded.  “Mine doesn’t leave for another hour.”  He was heading out to Jeannie’s to spend a few days with them.  Honestly?  John kinda wanted to go.  He liked the Millers, liked how they immediately included him as part of the family.

John nodded.  Shifted his weight back and forth.  “So, uh, I’ll see you in a few days, then,” he offered awkwardly.

Rodney nodded.  “Yeah.  Yeah, uh, have fun.  Don’t kill yourself.  I don’t want to have to break in a new best friend, okay?”

John grinned and gave him a two-fingered salute, bouncing his fingers off his forehead.  “Aww, you do care,” he teased.

Rodney rolled his eyes and smacked him on the arm.  “Shut up.  You know you’re one of the very small group of people who actually wants to spend time with me.”

John swung his bag to knock against Rodney’s side.  “I’ll be careful.  Scout’s honor.”

Rodney eyed him suspiciously.  “When were you a Boy Scout?”

“Never,” John said cheerfully and started towards his gate.  “See you in a few days, McKay!”

“Don’t get caught in an avalanche!” Rodney hollered after him.

John shook his head, feeling lighter than he had since Rodney said the e-word.

He needed these few days away from it all.  Clear his mind, center himself.  Finally do something where no one was depending on him for anything other than a good time.

For a few days, anyway.  Then he’d probably get bored, but hey—he chose this life.  He liked the military and he liked Atlantis.  But there was nothing wrong with a few days with no expectations, no pressure.

John stepped into the TSA line, shooting his brother a text to let Dave know he was about to get on the plane.  It lit up almost instantly with a reply, letting him know Dave had arrived at the resort a couple hours ago.  Four days with his older brother and nothing to do but fly down snowy mountains on a snowboard.  What could go wrong?

* * *

“She said yes!”

For the second time in two weeks, John felt himself hoping against hope that his ears were deceiving him.  He blinked, sinking down onto his bed.  “You already asked her?” 

Rodney beamed at him.  “Last night.  I took her out for a picnic dinner up on one of those less used balconies, popped the question during dessert.  Took her completely by surprise but she said yes!”

John swallowed hard and brought his foot up to rest on the edge of his bed where he hooked his hands around his knee.  John said, “That’s great, Rodney!  Really . . . great.”

“Thanks!”  Rodney paced a little.  They were in John’s room.  John had just finished a training session with the marines and was hoping for an hour or so of downtime before heading to the next thing on his list.  Rodney clearly hadn’t noticed John’s lukewarm congratulations.  “God, I still can’t believe I managed to get all the way through it this time.  When I was with Katie, well, you remember.  That whole quarantine debacle.”  John nodded.  He remembered having to climb up the side of the building to stop the pointless quarantine.  Rodney stopped and faced him, wringing his hands.

John frowned.  “What’s up?” 

“I, uh, I wanted to ask you for a favor.”

“I am not helping pick out your wedding bands,” John said immediately.

Rodney gave a nervous laugh.  “No, no.  No, I don’t need any help with that.  I don’t think.  Anyway, no.  What I wanted to ask you was: would you be my best man?”

John felt the floor beneath him shift.  His foot slid off the bed onto the floor.  The final nail in the coffin.  Having to help the man he loved marry someone else, and with a smile on his face, no less.  And of course, as much as he wanted to, there was no way he could say no and not feel like the biggest asshole in two galaxies. 

Rodney was watching him, trepidation clear on his face.  John stood crossed the distance between them, forced a smile and clapped him on the shoulder.  “Rodney, I’m insulted you think I’d actually say no to that.  Of course I’ll be your best man.  I’m honored.”

Rodney practically shrunk in relief.  “Thank you.  I didn’t want to assume.  I mean, you’ve got enough on your shoulders already, so I just—”

“Rodney.  It’s fine.” 

“Great.”  Rodney paused, then asked, “So . . . what do we do now?”

“We go to movie night.  Come on.”  John desperately needed the distraction and fully intended to situate himself between Teyla and Ronon so as not to tempt himself.

Maybe their next mission would go so sideways he wouldn’t have to think about this for a while.

* * *

John landed flat on his back on the mat, the breath coming out of him with a _whoosh_.

Teyla appeared over him, holding out a hand to help him to his feet.  After a moment, John shifted both bantos to his left hand, flung his right out and let her haul him up.  She took a couple steps back and dropped into a low crouch.  John caught his breath, swung a banto out and she slid effortlessly to the side, swinging one of hers at the same time and catching him in the side.

“You are not focused, John,” Teyla observed as they danced around each other.

“Just,” he grunted as she nailed him in the shoulder, “got a lot on my mind.”

“Anything you would care to share?  I will not divulge your secrets without your approval.”

John circled her, looking for an opening.  “I know.  And I appreciate it.” 

They’d been in the gym since early afternoon, when the realization that Rodney’s news had shattered his life had become too much to bear on his own.  Teyla was the one person he knew wouldn’t push if he didn’t want to talk but she always made sure that he knew he could come to her.  It had saved him more than once in the past from wallowing too much.

Their bantos clashed in a flurry of noise and movement.  When they separated, John was breathing hard.  “Rodney and Keller are engaged,” he finally said.

Teyla stopped momentarily, blinking.  She lowered her bantos slightly.  “That is . . . wondrous news.  I should offer them my congratulations.”

“Yeah,” John said shortly and shoved his sweaty hair off his forehead.  “It’s frikking amazing.”

Teyla studied him.  “Is there something else?  I know you are not happy about this news but it has nothing to do with you beyond requiring your presence as witness, as painful as I am sure that would be for you.”

“He asked me to be his best man.”

“I am unfamiliar with this term.  Is it an Earth word?”  She swung both her bantos at him, he dodged, and her foot came out to send him onto the mats again.

John climbed to his feet on his own this time and explained, “Yeah.  See, the guy getting married typically asks his best friend or his brother or the brother of the person he’s marrying to help him plan the wedding.  Meaning I’m going to have to help them plan everything, from the bachelor party to the ceremony to the reception.”  He headed for the weapons rack, adding, “Then I have to stand next to him and watch him marry . . .” he made a face, “ _her._ ”

Teyla set her bantos on the rack next to his.  “It is one of the great struggles in our lives, to assist a friend in achieving their happiness at the expense of our own.”  She took his shoulders in both hands and touched her forehead to his.  Her voice was soft as she told him, “It is most honorable of you to help Rodney with his wedding, John, knowing that you are in love with him even as he is in love with someone else.  He is very lucky to have you in his life.  You are a good friend, John Sheppard.”

John closed his eyes, knowing she was right and hating every second of it.

“Know that I am here, if you should ever find you need to talk.”  Teyla smiled as she pulled away.  “Or you need a distraction.”

He smiled at her.  Sometimes he felt like she knew him better than anyone, better than himself, even.  “Thanks, Teyla.”

“Of course, John.  Did you want to continue sparring without the bantos or did you have plans for the rest of the afternoon?”

He started to say he had paperwork when his headset squawked, “McKay to Sheppard.”

John tapped it.  “Sheppard, here.  What’s up?”

“Where are you?”

He frowned.  “Gym.  What’s going on, Rodney?”

“I need to talk to you.”

John started for the door with an apologetic look to Teyla.  She smiled and waved him on.  How the hell she always looked like she’d done nothing more strenuous than meditation was beyond him.  Especially when he felt all sweaty and sticky, knew his face was a little flushed from the exertion.  He liked being able to see the results of a workout, though he did wish he had time for a quick shower and change of clothes but life on Atlantis didn’t really offer time for that when the shit hit the fan. “On my way,” he replied.  “You in your lab?”

“I am.  I was.  Look, I’ll meet you halfway.”

John made a face.  Weird.  “Copy that.”  He jogged around the corner to the transporter.

* * *

John leaned against Rodney’s dresser, watching his friend pace back and forth in his bedroom.  “Your room’s a mess,” John observed idly, his arms crossed.

Rodney glared at him.  “What am I going to do, John?”

“Clean your room?  I’d start with figuring out where your bed is.”

“Fuck off.”

“You asked me here.”

“My first mistake.”

“Is this wedding related?”

Rodney sighed.  “Yes.”

“Great.  So maybe you can start with telling me what the problem is?”  _So I can solve it and stop thinking about it?_

“Jennifer wants to get married soon.  Like, really soon.”

John cocked an eyebrow.  “Define soon.”

Rodney stopped and faced him.  “Mid-August.”

John blinked, lowered his arms.  “Mid . . . that’s in—that’s in two months!”  Rodney nodded.  “How the hell are you going to put together a wedding in two months?”

Rodney threw his hands in the air and resumed pacing.  “Thank you!  Now you understand my problem.  How am I going to do this?  I’m too busy with keeping the damn city from falling apart, not to mention keeping you alive off world, to plan a wedding.”

John ignored the keeping-him-alive comment and wished he had the balls to sabotage things but Rodney was happy with Keller and he’d feel like a dick at ruining Rodney’s happiness.  He knew Rodney hadn’t had much of that in his life and didn’t want to destroy his chance.  “You don’t have to do it alone, you know,” he pointed out.  “You have friends who can help.”

Rodney bobbed his head several times.  “Right.  Right, of course.  Why didn’t I think of that?  There’re plenty of people in Atlantis not doing anything useful.  I can put them to work.”  John bit his tongue to keep from grinning at Rodney’s continual refusal to admit that what he deemed the “soft sciences” were indeed useful and had saved his life on more than one occasion.  Not to mention his fiancée practiced the “soft science” of medicine just like Carson had.  It’d be nice to have Carson around right now, even his clone would be helpful.  “Oh, but where are we going to have it?  We can’t do it on Earth.  We can’t do it on the mainland.  Flying people out there would take all day.”

John cast around for an idea.  He was supposed to be being helpful.  “Have the ceremony in the gate room,” he suggested.

Rodney gave him his patented are-you-stupid look.  “Oh yes,” he said sarcastically, “that’s exactly how I want my wedding to go.  Standing in front of the gate as a wormhole forms and we get vaporized before we get to say our vows.  Are you really that stupid?”

John rolled his eyes.  Only Rodney.  “I didn’t mean in _front_ of the gate, McKay.  I was thinking more along the lines of up at the top of the stairs.”

“And how is that any better?”

He sighed.  In for a penny, in for a pound.  “You want romantic, right?”  When Rodney nodded, he continued, “So you have the ceremony at the top of the stairs, have the sunlight shining through the stained glass windows, and everyone else seated on the platform in front of the gate but leave some space on the miniscule chance someone dials in.”  John shrugged.  “Romantic.  Then you can have the reception out on one of the piers.  We do enough parties out there; this’ll be nothing for the kitchens.”

Rodney was staring at him with his mouth hanging open.  “That . . . is perfect,” Rodney said slowly.  “How did you do that so easily?”

John shifted uncomfortably and pointed out, “I have done this once before.”  _Unsuccessfully_ , he added silently.

“Right.”  Rodney shot him a grin.  “Right, this’ll work.  That’s good.  Okay, so Jennifer and I’ll tell the team our news at dinner and the Atlantis grapevine will do the rest of it for us.”

“Great.”  John pushed away from the dresser and headed for the door.  “If that’s it, I really need a shower before dinner.”

Rodney frowned.  “Oh, okay.  I’ll see you in a bit, then.”

“Yup.”  John swiped the door open and stepped out into the hall.  He made it back to his room, stripped off his clothes and stepped into the shower.  He let the water flow down his battered body, his head lowered.  How was he going to be able to do this?

* * *

Torren giggled and reached over to poke at John’s veggie structure.  It toppled over and John said, “Hey!  You couldn’t let me finish?”

The six-year-old shook his head, a huge smile on his face.  “It didn’t deserve to be finished.”

“ _Ouch_ ,” John said, insulted, and turned to Teyla.  “Your kid’s mean.”

Teyla was smiling at them.  “Perhaps he simply has better taste in art.”

John put a hand to his chest and leaned back in his chair.  “You wound me,” he moaned dramatically, making Torren laugh.  Teyla shook her head, amusement dancing in her eyes.  “All these years of food art and now she tells me I’m bad at it.  My poor ego.”

“You were simply not meant to be an artist, John.”  Teyla glanced to her left and said, “But if you like, perhaps Major Lorne could give you some pointers?”

Lorne looked up and over from the far end of the table, his coffee cup inches from his mouth.  He had the deer-in-the-headlights-look on his face.  “Sir?”

John shook his head.  “No thanks, Major.  I’m good with my food art.”  He grabbed a carrot and dipped it in the leftover gravy before popping it in his mouth.  “Alright, T.J.,” John said, turning back to Torren, “where’s yours?”

Teyla intervened, “If you must teach him, could you not teach him something less messy?”

“Where’s the fun in that?  I am supposed to be the fun uncle, right?” John asked with a grin.

Ronon chuckled.  “He’s got a point.”

“Who’s got a point?”

They all looked up at the new voice.  Rodney and Keller stood at the edge of the table to John’s left, holding hands.  John’s good mood vanished in a flash.  Keller glanced around the table and asked, “Did we interrupt something?”

John leaned his chair back.  “Just talking.”

Rodney’s gaze landed on the pile of vegetables on John’s tray then met John’s gaze.  “The tower?”

Surprised Rodney figured it out from the aftermath, John replied, “Almost.  Til Torren knocked it over.”

“Huh.  Well, carrots, fish sticks, and beans probably weren’t the best vegetables to build with.  You need something taller, more substantial, although the carrots could work for the base—”

Keller interrupted, “Rodney.  We had something to say . . .?”

“Right right.  Sorry.”  Rodney cleared his throat.  “I am . . . I mean, we—Jennifer and I are . . . well, that is to say—”

Keller flung her left hand up, beaming.  “We’re getting married!”

There was a moment of stunned silence and then Teyla smiled widely.  Her smile actually looked sincere.  John would have to ask her one day how she did that.  “Congratulations!  It is good to have happy news to share.”

Ronon grunted, “Congrats.”

Lorne echoed them, “Congrats.  You two set a date yet?”

Keller looked at Rodney and John turned to back to the remnants of his dinner as she said, “Mid-August.  I’m thinking around the eleventh, barring the apocalypse.”

Lorne said in surprise, “Wow, that’s uh that’s pretty soon.”

“I know, but I really don’t want to wait.”  Keller sounded excited.

John manfully suppressed the instinct to make a disgusted face as he heard them kiss.

Keller saying his name drew his attention.  “John,” she smiled briefly, “I’m happy to hear that you’ve agreed to be Rodney’s best man.  I know you’ll do a great job.”  Keller shifted her focus before he could respond.  “Teyla, you are one of my closest friends here on Atlantis.  I would like you to be my maid of honor.”

Teyla’s forehead scrunched in confusion and her gaze shifted to him in a silent request for an definition.  John explained, “It’s like the female version of best man.”

“Ah,” she said.  Her expression cleared and she dipped her head a bit.  “I would be honored, Jennifer, to help you plan your wedding.”

Keller smiled.  “Then it’s settled.  I’m so happy everyone knows, this is going to be wonderful.”

Rodney smiled at her.  “We’ll be right back, guys.  I want to see if there’s any pudding left.”

As they walked away, Teyla gave John a sympathetic look.  He shrugged and finished off his coffee, then shoved his chair back.  “See you guys tomorrow.”

Torren frowned.  “But you promised to read me a story!”

John ruffled his hair.  “And I will,” he promised.  “Your mom’s gonna call me when you’re ready for bed and I’ll come read you a story, deal?”

Torren eyed him then nodded.  “Deal.”

John grabbed his tray and walked it to the servers before making his escape.  The next two months were going to be extremely trying.

* * *

“Do you think we should have a vegetarian option at the reception?”

John rested his hands on the butt of his P90 and resisted the urge to smack McKay with it.  Three weeks of wedding planning and John had been immensely grateful for the chance to go off world, even if it was just to renew a trade agreement.  The Hassellians were a prickly group but they had damn good coffee beans which made the trip worth it.  Almost.  “ _McKay_ ,” John said, an edge to his voice.

Rodney ignored him, of course, and turned to Teyla, some sort of snowman-shaped purple thing in his hand.  “What is this?”

She took it from him and examined it.  “It is a perini.  Similar to your Earth cucumber in taste, I believe.”

“Hmm.”  Rodney took it back and cautiously sniffed it.  “It smells like dirt.”

Smiling, Teyla replied, “Because it is grown underground.  Once it has arrived at its full growth, the tops of the perinis pop through the earth.  That is when you know it is time for the harvest.”

“Interesting.”

“Fascinating,” John muttered.  Then, louder, “McKay, there was a point to this mission and it was not to go grocery shopping.”

“We’re trading for coffee, Colonel.  That counts as shopping.”  But Rodney did turn away from the cart after replacing the vegetable and joined him and Ronon in the aisle.  “Besides, both sides already agreed to the renewal and they’ve agreed to house us overnight so we can take the first load in the morning, so I ask you: what are we supposed to be doing?”

John sighed.  “We’re gonna be late for check-in if we don’t get going soon.”

“So you want us to walk all the way to the gate, tell Woolsey we’re fine, then walk all the way back?  You really don’t care about my health, do you?”

Oh yeah, definitely gonna smack him.

Teyla offered, “I could stay with Dr. McKay while you and Ronon go to the gate.”

Rodney pointed at her.  “Yes!  I agree with this plan.  It satisfies Woolsey’s unholy obsession with updates and I get to take another look at the pern-thing.”

“Perini,” Teyla corrected.

“Right, that.”

John gritted his teeth.  He hated splitting the team up off world, especially when the gate was three hours’ walk from here.  “Look,” he started, “I get that you’re fascinated by this—perini—” Teyla nodded in approval of his pronunciation, “but you were both there when Qu’lan mentioned the fighting in the outer villages.  So, yes, Rodney, I expect you to walk to the Stargate, assure Woolsey that everything is proceeding to plan, and then come back here, _as a team_.  Because teams stick together in uncertain situations.”

“We’ve been trading with the Hassellians for three years, Sheppard,” Rodney retorted.  “I think we’d know by now if they were planning to kill us.”

John retorted, “And complacency gets you killed.  Until we know for sure that the outer villages are no threat to us, we’re doing this my way.”

Rodney glared at him then responded, “If I die, you’re fired as my best man.”

John stalked away, shouting back, “How ‘bout I quit?”

Rodney hurried to walk next to him.  “You wouldn’t quit.  Right?  John?”  Rodney’s voice had the unmistakable sound of vulnerability and it cut right through John’s annoyance.

He sighed and slowed so Rodney wasn’t jogging to keep up.  “No,” John admitted, “I won’t quit.  But would it kill you to listen to me once in a while?”

“Probably,” Rodney said with a quick smile.  John returned it, feeling his annoyance fade away.

They exited the city and started down the road to the Stargate.  They were perhaps half an hour from the gate when the hair on the back of John’s neck started to rise and he surreptitiously glanced around.  They were on a flat dirt path, surrounded on both sides by dense forest.  No sign of anyone watching them yet he had a feeling, that familiar feeling of being watched.

Ronon rumbled, “Sheppard.”

“Yeah, I know.  I feel it, too.”

Rodney looked between them.  “Feel what?  What are you talking about?”

John ordered, “Teyla, take point.  Ronon, cover our six.  Keep it casual; don’t let them know we’re onto them.”  They shifted, Teyla casually walking past him and Rodney while Ronon dropped back a bit.  They kept their guns lowered but remained at the ready.  Tightening his grip on his P90, John shifted closer to Rodney, scanning the forest as they subtly picked up the pace.

“Are we in danger?” Rodney asked nervously.

John answered, “Maybe.  Something’s not right.  If anything does happen, you know what to do.”  Rodney nodded.  Standard procedure.  John and Ronon would attempt to draw the enemy’s fire while Teyla and Rodney made a break for the gate.

The Stargate came into view and that was when the unseen threat made their move.  The ground directly in front of Teyla exploded, dust flying into the air.  Off balance, she rocked back and John surged forward to throw a hand against her back to steady her.  John barked, “Move!”

They took off for the gate at a run.  Almost immediately another explosion occurred in the spot they’d just been.                 

Ronon called, “Left!”

John’s head snapped in that direction and saw a dozen or so people exiting the forest and heading their way.  Dressed in greens and browns, every one of them was armed with a gun—strike team.  “Shit,” he muttered.  Damn villagers.  He stopped and fired his P90, giving Rodney a quick shove to keep him going.  Ronon came to a stop next to him, firing his laser gun.

His side stung and he twisted to look behind him.  Fuck, they were coming from behind as well!  John and Ronon went back to back, firing.  He spared a second to check on Teyla and Rodney—they’d almost reached the DHD.  He and Ronon started moving forward again, walking sideways, still firing on the enemy.

Rodney called through the radio, “Colonel?”

“Dial the gate and go through,” John ordered, dodging a shot and returning fire.

“What happened to doing things as a team?”

John managed a disbelieving laugh as he took one out.  “ _Now_ you choose to listen to me?!”

“I aim to please,” Rodney said loftily but John could hear the undercurrent of worry.  His tone turned serious.  “We go together, Colonel, or not at all.”

John felt a surge of love for the man that nearly overwhelmed him.  His voice softened just the tiniest bit.  “Dial the gate, Rodney.”

“Only if you’re on your way.”

John drew a grenade from his vest, pulled the pin with his teeth and lobbed it.  “On our way.”  He tapped Ronon’s shoulder and they ran for the gate, enemy fire on their heels.

The event horizon whooshed into existence.  Teyla tapped out her IDC.  John called over the radio as he ran, “This is Colonel Sheppard; we’re coming in hot!”

Woolsey responded, “Understood, Colonel.”

John grabbed Rodney’s flak vest and shoved him towards the gate, turning to fire a last burst of gunfire at the rapidly approaching enemy.  Damn, they moved fast.  He shot a quick look over his shoulder to check on Rodney’s progress and instead saw Teyla’s head whip around from where she had been firing.  A whistling sound reached John’s ears and he looked up, his stomach sinking.

Shit.  “Go!” he shouted, even as he dropped his weapon and ran, the P90 bouncing against his chest.  Teyla reached out for Rodney as she headed for the gate but she was still too far away.  Rodney had stopped for some godforsaken reason and was looking up at the sky, his eyes glued to the projectile headed straight for him.  Dammit.  Why the hell wasn’t he moving?  John dug into his reserves, put on a burst of speed and slammed into Rodney, knocking them both to the ground.

The ground where Rodney had been standing exploded, showering dirt on them, the force of the explosion sending them rolling a few feet.  Ears ringing a little, John lifted his head, blinked the dirt out of his eyes and looked down at Rodney, who was pinned underneath him.  Rodney’s eyes were wide, his face pale.  Their faces were inches apart and John’s gaze slid down to focus on Rodney’s lips.  It would be so easy to just close the distance between them and give in to his feelings, just for one moment.  How often had he imagined what it might feel like to kiss Rodney?  He could do it.  Right now.  He could feel Rodney’s chest moving as he breathed.  So easy.  And yet . . . and yet he couldn’t.

Reining in his wayward emotions, John regretfully put his hands on the ground, levered himself to his feet and asked, “You good?”

“Yeah.”  Looking up at him from the ground, Rodney sounded breathless.

John held out a hand and Rodney took it, letting John pull him to his feet.  Dropping Rodney’s hand as if it burned, John turned around, saw Ronon and Teyla guarding their backs and called, “Let’s go, guys!”

The four of them hurried through the wormhole, hearing shouts behind them as the enemy realized their quarry was escaping.

The ripples from their entrance to Atlantis were still evident in the event horizon as Woolsey called, “Raise the shield!”

_Fwump!_

_Fwump!_

_Fwump!_

The wormhole disengaged and John blew out his breath.  They were safe.

Woolsey descended the stairs from the control room and studied.  “So, Colonel,” he said, almost casually, “I take it your mission was unsuccessful?”

“On the contrary,” Teyla answered, “the trade agreement was signed by both sides and we were to get our first shipment in the morning.  We were on our way to the Stargate to inform you of the progress when we were attacked.  Most likely the rebel forces we had been warned about took a dislike to our trade agreement with the Hassellians.”

John nodded in agreement with her summary, grateful Teyla had answered as he found he was having a little trouble catching his breath. 

Woolsey nodded then said, “We’ll have a full debrief later.  For now, head to the infirmary for your after mission medical checks.”

With a nod of assent, John unclipped his P90, lowering it to his side so he could unbuckle his vest.  “Sounds like a plan,” he said, turning to head for the armory.  His side protested, quite painfully, and he stumbled.  Ronon’s hand shot out to grab his forearm.

“You okay?” Ronon asked, his grip tight.

John took a breath, got his feet under him, then pulled his arm free and peeled his vest aside to glance down.  Shit.  There was a dark stain spreading across the left side of his jacket.  Shit.  That glancing blow he’d felt before their last run for the gate had been worse than he’d thought.

Ronon said, “He’s injured.”

“What?!” Rodney squawked.  “When?  Why didn’t you say anything?”

John shot him a halfhearted glare.  “I thought it was just a scratch.  And I was too busy saving your ass to worry about a scratch!”  He stepped off the platform.  “It’s not a big deal.  I’ll get Keller to toss a bandage on it; I’ll be fine.”  He headed for the infirmary without waiting for a response, Ronon hovering at his side.

* * *

“Is there ever a mission where you come back uninjured, Colonel?”  Dr. Keller asked as she motioned for John to sit on the hospital bed.

He sat down and completely unbuckled his vest.  “It’s just a scratch, Doc.  Relax.  No need for everyone to freak out.”

She came back over with a tray of supplies and ordered, “Jacket and shirt off; come on, you know the drill.”  John shrugged out of his jacket, draping it over the edge of the bed.  Keller pulled on a pair of latex gloves.  “So what happened?”

Leaning against the wall opposite the bed, Ronon answered, “Surprise attack on the way to the gate.  Guerrillas came out of the trees firing at us.  Had some sort of grenade launcher.”

Keller looked at him in surprise then back to John.  “And you were the only one injured?”

John huffed.  “It’s a scratch, Jesus.”  He grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and started to peel it away from his skin, biting back a wince as it pulled at the edges of the wound. 

“No offense, Colonel, but with you, it’s never just a scratch.”

He shot her a slightly insulted look.  “You’re never gonna let that go, are you?”  John pulled his shirt over his head.

Keller smiled quickly at him and bent over to inspect the wound.  “When a patient with a hole in his side ignores a doctor’s advice and then proceeds to lead a rescue operation in hostile territory, said doctor tends to get annoyed with the patient.”  In a lower voice, Keller added, “Thanks for bringing Rodney back safely, John.  I’m not sure what I would have done if he—”her voice broke and she turned back to the tray.

John closed his eyes briefly.  The words _if Rodney had died_ lingered unspoken in the air between them.  He felt suddenly cold at the thought.  Then anger rose in him.  _She_ didn’t know what she’d do if Rodney had died?!  If they’d listened to her, Rodney would have died during that whole second childhood disaster!  He gritted his teeth.  He knew full well what he would do if Rodney had died—it would break him.  John knew that, had accepted that losing Rodney would shatter him completely, and worked to do anything and everything in his power every day to make sure that never happened.

Keller started cleaning his wound and he winced, pulling away instinctively as the alcohol stung.  John also knew that if he died, Rodney would be fine.  He refused to think otherwise, because if he accepted the fact that his death would affect Rodney as much as the death of Rodney would affect him, he wouldn’t be able to do the things he did.  Besides, Rodney had Keller; he’d move on and be happy.  John purposely ignored the fact that in an alternate timeline Rodney had spent 48,000 years working on a way to save John because Rodney needed John in his life.

Keller poked at the edges of the scratch and he jerked, glaring at her.  “ _Ow_ ,” he said pointedly.

Rodney and Teyla, of course, chose that moment to walk in.  Rodney hurried over.  “Are you okay?”

John rolled his eyes.  “I’m fine.”  He shot Keller’s back a glare—she’d turned back to the tray.  “Or at least I would be if the doc over here would quit poking at it.”

“I’m trying to determine how deep it is, Colonel.”  Keller turned to him, frowning.

Rodney narrowed his gaze at John and demanded, “What were you thinking!  Hey, look, grenade, let’s go say hi?”

Rodney was panicking.  John recognized the signs.  So, in an effort to get him to calm down, John met his eyes and said firmly, reassuringly, “Rodney.  I am fine.”

“You got _shot_!” Rodney’s voice rose and for a heartbeat, John let himself bask in the concern clear in Rodney’s voice and expression.  Then his annoyance at everyone fussing over a simple GSW raised its head again.  Besides, Rodney usually responded better when John snapped at him for some weird reason.

“Yes, Rodney, I got shot!  It is not the first time and it certainly won’t be the last time.  Besides, you were the one who was staring at the airborne projectile headed your way and I couldn’t let anyth—ah!”   John inhaled sharply as Keller jabbed his side with a needle, which served a double purpose of numbing the area and effectively cutting him off before he could incriminate himself further.  He averted his gaze from Rodney’s assessing stare to shoot a glare at Keller.

Keller ignored it and started stitching him up.  “Well, I, for one, am grateful you were there.  I hate to think of what could have happened if you weren’t.  But you need to take better care of yourself, Colonel.  Do you have any idea how large your medical file is?”

John’s gaze darted back to Rodney of its own accord as he briefly contemplated an Atlantis without Rodney because he’d failed to keep Rodney safe.  On the heels of that came the remembrance of his doppelgänger years back that had showed everyone their worst fears and his had been exactly that: Rodney dead because of something John had done or failed to do.

Getting hurt was worth it if his friends and teammates survived.

With effort, John shoved it aside and focused instead on ignoring Keller’s closeness.  He had to get some practice in, after all.  His team remained in the infirmary as she stitched him up and taped a bandage over the area.  As she smoothed the last piece of tape down, Keller said very quietly, “Thank you again, John, for bringing him back to me.”

Wasn’t thinking about _you_ , John wanted to say, but he settled for a half shrug and reached for his now ruined shirt.  “Just doing my job,” he said lightly as he pulled it over his head.  Hopping off the bed, he grabbed his jacket by the collar and headed for the door.

Keller called after him, “No strenuous duty for a week, Colonel!  That includes going on missions!”

John made a face, but tossed a wave over his shoulder to indicate he heard before he ducked into the hall.  His friends followed and Teyla asked, “I must go pick up Torren from Lt. Cadman but first, do you need anything, John?  We could perhaps have a late dinner?”

John shook his head.  “Thanks, guys, but I’m just gonna head for my quarters.  I’ll see you at the debrief in the morning.  Tell Torren I’ll read him a story tomorrow.”  Teyla nodded and he headed down the hall away from him, Ronon on her heels.

Rodney followed John.

John ignored him, hoping that would stave off the inevitable conversation.  You’d think by now they’d be done having this sort of conversation after he got injured in the line of duty but no.  Rodney seemed to think John _liked_ getting hurt and spent an inordinate amount of time arguing with him about it.  He also wanted to put some distance between them after his near-slip in the field.  And his near-slip in the infirmary.  This was not the time to lose control. 

Rodney eventually asked, “Are you okay?”

John said shortly, “I’m fine, Rodney.  You don’t have to hover.  Like I said, it’s not the first time I’ve been shot _and_ ” he raised his voice as he saw Rodney open his mouth, “it is also not the first time I have gotten shot while protecting my team so don’t even start.  I am not in the mood for a lecture.”

Rodney shut his mouth, frowning, then said, “Can I say something?”

John shot him a glare as he waved the doors to the transporter open.  “If it’s about me getting shot . . . no.”

Rodney crossed his arms and said in a completely sincere tone, “Thank you.”

John felt the tension that had been holding him tight ever since they were attacked on the road fall away, leaving him more relaxed.  His shoulders lowered and his expression softened.  Quietly, John said, “You’re welcome.”

Rodney nodded, his own expression softening and they stood there for a minute, staring at each other.  A different sort of tension started to build and John cleared his throat, jerked a thumb over his shoulder.  “I, uh, I’m gonna grab a shower and a change of clothes.”

Rodney took a step back.  “Movie?”

John nodded.  “Sounds good.  My quarters, half an hour?”

“See you in a bit, then.”

John stepped into the transporter and hit the living quarters on the map, the doors closing on Rodney.  He was damn happy he wasn’t one to blush because he felt warm all over but it hopefully wasn’t visible on his face.  He knew he was supposed to be staying away but the fear of losing Rodney today brought up that irrational need to have the man close.  It came out of nowhere sometimes, and John fought it some days, other days he found reasons to be around him.  Today appeared to be one where he couldn’t fight it off.

And if Rodney was willing to blow off his fiancée for John?

Well, a man could only deny himself so much, right?


	2. Chapter Two

“Jesus, McKay; just get out here already!  I want to see something other than the inside of a building!”

“You didn’t have to come, Major!” Rodney shot back from behind the curtain.  “As I recall, you’re planning to wear your dress blues so there was no reason for you to come.”

Lorne rolled his eyes and replied, “I came because I wanted a day off!”

Shaking his head, John stretched out and crossed his legs at the ankles.  He called out, “Come out and show us, Rodney.  We’ve only got a day pass and if this goes much longer, we’ll be late to meet the girls!”

Rodney didn’t respond for a minute and when he did, it was in a low voice, his tone uncertain.  “It doesn’t look right.”

John rolled his eyes.  “Rodney, it’s a tux.  Everyone looks good in a tux.  You gave them your measurements weeks ago so just come out here so the tailor can do a final fitting check.”

Two and a half hours.

That’s how long they’d been on Earth and most of it had been spent in Men’s Wearhouse trying on their tuxedos for the wedding in a few weeks.  According to the sales person, fittings shouldn’t take more than 15 minutes per person.  Ronon had tried his tux on, scowled at his reflection, changed, and left.  John had been next up in the fittings so he sent the airman who drove them into town after Ronon to keep him out of trouble.  Zelenka was currently in the back with a tailor, getting his jacket sleeves to the right length.  Lorne had declined, saying he’d prefer to wear his USAF dress uniform.

That honestly hadn’t even occurred to John.  He was just going to go with the typical nondescript black tuxedo.  Now, though, he wondered if maybe he should wear his blues, like Lorne.  A soldier was expected to wear his dress uniform for special occasions, which Rodney’s wedding certainly was.  And if his 2IC was wearing his uniform, then John probably should as well, right?

The curtain fluttered and Rodney stepped out, looking down and fiddling with the hem of the jacket.  John felt his mouth drop open, his heart stopping at the sight.

Damn.

Intellectually, he’d known that Rodney in a tux would kill him but he’d had no idea.  No idea at all.

Rodney looked fucking sexy and hot as hell and John wanted nothing more in that moment than to blurt out his feelings and take him right there, and to hell with the consequences.

It took every ounce of his willpower for John to keep from looking over at Lorne to see if the major had noticed his reaction.  John closed his mouth and watched as Rodney stepped up onto the platform and looked in the mirrors.  Rodney tugged at the sleeves, twisting to see his profile from either side.  Okay, admire McKay on your own time.  Time to yank the role of best man back on.

A tailor hovered nearby as John slowly got out of his chair and stepped up next to Rodney.  Pulling on the persona of lazy best friend, he leaned his forearm on Rodney’s shoulder and said to their reflections, “See?  Told you—everyone looks good in a tux.”

Rodney huffed.  “Are you sure?  I mean, suits aren’t exactly . . . me.”

“Rodney,” John said patiently, “you look great.  Trust me.  Keller won’t know what hit her.”

Rodney glanced at him.  “Are you sure?”

Zelenka walked out, back in his civvies, and grinned.  “You finally got him out of the dressing room!”

Rodney glared at him.  John sighed.  “Lorne, would you take Radek and go find our ride?  Rodney and I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

Lorne got to his feet.  “Sure thing, Colonel.  Come on, doc.”

After they left, John turned back to Rodney who was back to fidgeting with the sleeves.  “Alright, what’s really going on?”

“What?”  Rodney looked over at him, startled.

John crossed his arms.  “You’ve worn a tux before; Keller was with you.  You’re renting this one.  It fits perfectly, you look great.  I don’t see the problem.”

He blew out his breath then mumbled something under his breath.

“McKay.  Can’t hear you and we’re not going anywhere until you tell me what’s bugging you.”

Another glare, this time aimed at him.  “Last time I wore a tuxedo,” Rodney said louder, “I nearly killed my girlfriend.  And myself.  And dozens of other scientists.  So excuse me if I’m not exactly thrilled about wearing another one.”

Aaahh, there was the heart of gold that was hidden beneath the acerbic surface.  Rodney was worried about a repeat.  John softened his voice.  “There is no guarantee that everything will go off without a hitch.  There never is.  But we can do everything we can to make sure it goes as smoothly as possible.  There is a reason most of Atlantis’ personnel is military, Rodney.  We are there to keep you and the other scientists safe.”

Rodney’s brow furrowed.  “I know that.  Intellectually, I know that.  But the past . . . has a way of repeating itself.”

God help me.  John gathered up his courage and reluctantly asked, “Do you want me to get Keller on the phone so she can reassure you?”

“No.  No, that’s okay.”  Rodney stared at his reflection for another minute then sighed heavily.  “Okay, fine.  I’ll wear it.”

Relieved, John said, “Great.”  Honestly, he wanted to convince Rodney to buy it so John could find reasons for him to wear it again.  His gaze trailed down Rodney’s body.  Damn, he looked good.

Rodney stepped off the platform and back into the dressing room.

Okay.  So that was set and in a few weeks, John would have to come back and pick up the suits.  When Rodney came back out, John threw an arm around his shoulders and led him outside.  “So, one more thing to check off the list, right?” he asked.

“This is annoying.  Why can’t I just wear my uniform like Lorne?”

“Because Lorne’s looks nicer.  And you looked good, Rodney.  Don’t sell yourself short.  Trust me,” John bumped his hip, “you’re gonna stop the show.”

Rodney gave him a reluctant smile.  “You’re annoying, you know that?”

“It’s why you keep me around.  Now let’s go get lunch before Ronon eats someone.”

As Rodney laughed, they caught up with the guys and climbed into the car.

* * *

John lounged on his bed, fiddling with the strings on his guitar.  He had some sheet music up on his laptop and was slowly working through it.  It had been a pleasant surprise from Dave in the email blast from Earth a couple days ago.  Dave had sent digitized copies of some Johnny Cash songs for guitar solo along with a photo of the two of them from their snowboarding trip last month and an open invitation to come to his place for Thanksgiving, if he was able to take the time off.  John had no clue what he would be doing next week, let alone in two months, but he appreciated the offer just the same.  If he could, he’d like to go.

He would surely need the distraction from Rodney’s marriage.

John glanced at the screen to double check notes and then had to look up as his door slid open.  “Gee, McKay, come on in.  Not like I’m busy or anything,” John drawled sarcastically.

Rodney hurried in, the door sliding shut behind him, and started pacing.  John had a single room and the Ancients built them rather small so there wasn’t much space, especially with John’s belongings all over.  Still cleaner than Rodney’s room, though.

With a sigh, John sat up and started putting his guitar away.  He knew that particular look by now—Rodney was freaking out about something and odds were it was wedding related.  Considering the thing was in less than a month, Rodney freaking out a bit was understandable but what did he think John was gonna be able to do about it?  He wasn’t the goddamned wedding whisperer or anything.  If he had any care for himself, he’d be trying to stop the damn thing.

John was really starting to wonder if he was a masochist.

Rodney didn’t say anything, just kept pacing.  John shut the guitar case and leaned it against the wall then resettled on his bed and waited.  Finally Rodney stopped and faced him.  “Can I hang out here for a bit?”

“Sure.”  Anything to have alone time with his best friend was fine by him.  “What’s going on?”

Rodney’s face fell.  “Jennifer and I had a big fight.”

John fought the urge to fist pump and instead tried to sound concerned as he asked, “What about?  Did she change the location again?”

Rodney huffed and finally sat on the bed next to him.  “You know that last info blast we got form Stargate Command?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I got a digital copy of our marriage license.  I printed it out and went to show her, figuring she’d be happy, you know?  One more thing checked off the list, right?  But then she told me that she wished we could have done everything on Earth because it would have made things so much easier when we moved back.”

John sat up.  “Wait a second.  Moved _back_?”

Rodney shot him an unreadable look.  “That’s exactly what I said.”  He frowned.  “Almost exactly in the same tone of voice, too.  Huh.”

“What does she mean, move back?”  John was seconds from panicking, couldn’t be bothered trying to decipher Rodney’s expression.  Rodney couldn’t leave Atlantis!  Yeah, it’d suck that he’d be married to Keller but at least he’d still be here.  At least they could still go on missions, still have dinner, still hang out.  Movie nights.  Chess games.

Still be friends.

John hadn’t realized how much he’d been banking on that still happening until there was a possibility that it wouldn’t.

“She means move back.  Leave Atlantis.  What do you think it means?”  Rodney ran his hands across his face briefly.  “Dr. Lam is apparently retiring from the SGC and Jennifer is Landry’s pick for successor.  She wants to take it.  I don’t know who would replace her here, maybe they’d let Carson’s clone come back, I don’t know.”

John stared at his friend for a long minute, trying to wrap his brain around the new information as well as reign in his emotions.  “So,” he started finally, then stopped.  He made a face, shook his head, and tried again.  “Are you going with her?”

Rodney flopped onto his back, making the bed bounce.  “I can’t leave Atlantis.  My work is here.  How can I do any research on the Ancients and their technology without being _in_ the City of the Ancients?”

“Yeah,” John agreed.  “Having the foremost expert on Ancient technology in another galaxy kind of presents a problem.”

“You think?”  Rodney blew out his breath.

“I’m assuming you told her that.”  _Please say you did.  You can’t leave Atlantis.  You can’t leave me._

“Of course I did!  What I do here . . . and it’s not the first time this has come up.  Remember back when we thought we were going to be stuck on Earth?  Jennifer and I talked about it then but of course I wouldn’t have had to actually leave Atlantis because it would be in San Francisco Bay.  I’d commute or split my time between the SGC or Area 51 and Atlantis.  Ugh, I thought she understood that I can’t just work from anywhere!  My job’s not like hers.  A doctor is always going to be needed.  An astrophysicist, not so much.  Besides, everyone at the SGC hates me.”

“I’m sure not _every_ one there hates you.  They just don’t know you like we do,” John reassured him.

Rodney gave him a brief, genuine, smile and John’s heart stopped.  He hadn’t seen one of those directed his way in a while.  “Thanks.  Anyway, Jennifer argued that this is a huge break for her and I should be supportive and a good husband would go with her and support her dreams, and yada yada yada.  And, yeah, okay.  I see her point, but what would I be doing at the SGC?  They’d shove me down into some tiny lab on the bottom floor or something; Landry wouldn’t approve me for a gate team.  He didn’t last time.  I’d be bored out of my mind within a day, tops.  Turns out I quite enjoy running for my life every few days, who’d have guessed?”

John chuckled, relaxing a bit.  “So you walked away from her without resolving things?”

“Clearly.”

“Well, have you ever discussed it before?  You know, the fact that she wants to go to Earth and you want to stay in Pegasus?  It’s a completely different conversation than back when we thought this was never gonna happen.  I mean, I wasn’t even sure what I’d do if Atlantis had stayed on Earth.”  As the weeks passed, John had lived in fear of getting his own marching orders.  Afraid to get them; afraid to see where the USAF would send him.

“Are you kidding me?  Of course!”  Rodney shot him a look.  “I hated those two months we were stuck on Earth, the constant wondering what would become of us!  Jennifer was looking at open positions in America and Canada.  I was trying to find reasons to stay on Atlantis.  You were in danger of being reassigned.  It was a horrible time.  Never thought I’d prefer living in an alien galaxy but that’s my life now.  And it’s a good life.  I have purpose, friends, people who actually care about whether or not I eat dinner.  When I got sent to Siberia, then to Antarctica, I never thought I’d have any of that.  And now she wants me to leave it all behind so she can take a new position on what I consider to be an alien planet.”  Rodney threw an arm over his face.  “God, when did this all become so complicated?”

John rested a hand on Rodney’s arm and squeezed lightly.  “I know what you mean.  Atlantis is home for me, too.  I can’t imagine living anywhere else.”

Rodney hummed in agreement.

They were silent for a bit then John ventured, “You, uh, you might want to have this talk with her.  Sooner rather than later.  Deciding where to live is a pretty important thing for couples to agree on.”

Rodney grumbled, “. . . . yeah, I guess.  Sorry to ruin your downtime.  I just . . . things just make more sense after I talk to you.  I mean about personal things.  Not about science.  Although you are faster at grasping that Ancient technology isn’t as simple as flicking an on/off switch than most of my useless underlings are.”

John grinned and said brightly, “Don’t I feel so special!”

Rodney rolled his eyes.  “Shut up.  Anyway, thanks for listening to me rant.  And for helping somewhat.  I’m glad we can still do this.”

John snatched his hand back before Rodney took too much notice.  “What do you mean, still do this?”

“Still hang out, just the two of us.”

“You thought otherwise?”

Rodney bit his lip.  “Well, yeah.  I mean, you’ve been a little distant since the whole engagement thing and I realized the other day—with assistance from Teyla—that maybe I was too focused on the upcoming wedding and had been neglecting . . . certain things.  Like our friendship.”

_Or it could be because I’ve been trying to put distance between us._   He felt a little guilty that Rodney had noticed, but— _Rodney had noticed._   Throat tight, John gave him a small smile.  “My door’s always open for you, Rodney.  Any time.”

“Good.”

There was a pause then John hesitantly asked, “Are we good?”

Rodney rolled his eyes.  “Yes, dolt.  We’re good.  Now be a good best friend and distract me from my relationship woes.”

“You’re in luck.  Guess what I have?”  John grabbed his laptop and settled it on his lap.

“What?”  Rodney leaned against him.  “Oh, hey, when was that taken?”

“Huh?  Oh, yeah.  Yeah, that was—not the last trip to Earth, but the one before it.”  John smiled fondly at the computer wallpaper.  It was the photo of him and Dave—they’d just raced down one of the toughest runs at the resort, John winning just barely.  Dave had thrown a snowball at him, laughing, and it had felt like when they were kids.  When they were so close.  Dave had grabbed a fellow ‘boarder and asked him to take a picture of the brothers.  John had had so much fun.

“Looks like the two of you had a good time.”

John tossed him a quick frown, unsure what the note in his voice was.  Had Rodney wanted to come?  He wasn’t exactly a sports guy.  Or was it because John so rarely let himself show his real emotions that seeing them on the computer . . . what?  He had no clue.  John pulled up his video files.  “Yeah, we did.  Dave invited me for Thanksgiving; not sure I’ll be able to make it.”

Rodney shifted, pressing a little more against his right side.  He was warm.  John always felt a bit cold so he enjoyed the contact far more than he should probably let himself.  “Mmm . . . you should go,” Rodney said.  “You don’t get nearly enough time with your brother.”

John swallowed and shifted slightly.  Distance, he reminded himself.  He could hang out and still put distance between them.  Having Rodney pressed firmly against him right now though was having all kinds of effects—effects he did not need to have right now.  He could feel himself growing hard and pulled the laptop closer to hide it.  He cleared his throat.  “Yeah.  If I can, I’ll probably go.”  Focusing on the screen, John opened up a folder and clicked on a file.

The theme song to _Doctor Who_ filled the room and Rodney gave him a blindingly bright smile.  “You have the new season of _Doctor Who_?”

John grinned and said a tad smugly, “I have the new season of _Doctor Who_.”

Rodney shoved at him.  “Get out!  How did you get that?  Even I don’t have it!  And I have the best video collection in the city.”

“You can thank Chuck for this one.  I found him watching it one night during a particularly slow shift in the Control Room and asked him to burn me a copy of the files.”

Rodney snatched the laptop and sat back, settling himself against John’s pillows.  Clearly planning to spend a lot of time there.  That was A-Okay with John.  “Oh my god, I love you.  This is exactly what I need.  Hey, you got any popcorn left?”

John stared at him, heart pounding, wondering if Rodney realized what he’d just said.  Then he shook his head with a small smile because no.  Of course Rodney didn’t mean it even remotely like John wanted it.  Rodney meant it as strictly a friends thing, lost in the moment, fighting with his fiancé.  Totally normal thing to do.  John was foolish to think otherwise.

Didn’t help ease the pounding in his heart, though.  And it was on the tip of his tongue to say it back.

Rodney glanced up from where he’d been scrolling through the folder and frowned at him.  “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah.”  John got up, needing to look away for a minute.  “Think I got a couple bags left.  You want a beer?”

“Sure.”

John put the bag into the Ancients’ version of a microwave then bent down to pull out a six-pack from his mini-fridge.  He popped two free then tossed one to Rodney.  A minute later, the popcorn was done and John settled himself on his bed next to Rodney, beer in one hand and a bowl of popcorn in the other.

Rodney hit play then stole a handful of popcorn before John had even finished putting it down.

“What do you think of the new Doctor?” Rodney asked as the opening sequence ended.

John shrugged, took a sip.  “Kinda reminds me of Elizabeth.”

Rodney tilted his head.  “Yeah I can see that.  Or Carter.”

“Yeah.”  He tossed a kernel into the air, catching it with his mouth.  “Miss Ten, though.  He was fun.”

Rodney snorted.  “You would.  You’re far too similar.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“ADD.  Getting into trouble all the time.  Making things up as you go.  Childlike tendencies.  Shall I go on?”

“I’ll have you know that those are some of the very things that keep you alive,” John retorted.

Rodney shot him a grin.  “Did I say they were bad qualities?”

John raised an eyebrow and tossed another piece into the air.  The beer was making him a little reckless.  “Oh, so that’s how you compliment a guy?  By listing his flaws?  Gotta say, McKay, if that’s your flirting style, I’m wondering how you ever convinced Keller to go out with you.”

Rodney smacked him but he was still smiling so John counted his moment of temporary insanity a win.  Rodney took a sip of his beer and, in a lower voice, said, “Please, Sheppard, if I were flirting with you—you’d know.”

John nearly choked on his popcorn.  He covered it by leaning forward to rewind the episode a bit.  He’d been spending some time lately thinking back on things and wondering if Rodney had been flirting with him occasionally but he couldn’t be because he was with Keller.  Right?

John slid Rodney a sidelong glance.  Right?

“Besides,” Rodney continued after a moment, “I think you’re more of a mix of Nine and Ten.”

Reluctant to hear Rodney list more of his flaws, John nonetheless asked, “How so?”

Rodney took a drink.  John watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed and briefly wondered why he continued to torture himself.  “The whole soldier thing Nine had going on.  Hoping people will do the right thing but you have no problem kicking ass when someone goes after your people.  And that goes into how Ten will do whatever it takes to save someone but it takes a toll.”  Rodney shrugged.  “You don’t forgive yourself easily; I’ve seen you after a mission goes wrong, when we come back with dead, when someone under your command dies.  During the attacks on the city.  You blame yourself for events out of your control.  Like the Doctor.”

John stared, his beer, the popcorn, _Doctor Who_ —all forgotten in the face of Rodney’s speech.  How the hell did Rodney see him so well?  It was like Rodney saw straight through every damn wall he’d ever erected; Rodney _saw_ him.  John remembered his decision to come to Atlantis, how he’d figured—fresh start, you know?  The only problems he would have had would have been with Sumner but that ended quickly enough.  He winced.

Sumner’s death was his fault.  Nothing anyone said would ever change that in his mind.  John bit back a sigh.  Which was exactly what Rodney was talking about.  Shit.  Seriously, how did this man see past the lazy soldier persona he kept up when no commanding officer he’d ever had ever could?  Hell, his own family hadn’t seen past it until Dad’s funeral.

Rodney wouldn’t look at him, his cheeks a little pink.  “Anyway,” he said awkwardly, “that’s just my opinion.  It’s why you’re such a great commanding officer.  You care about everyone.”  He reached forward and turned the volume up on the laptop.

Once again those words were on the tip of his tongue, and once more John managed to bite them back before they escaped.  He honestly had no idea what to say.  They rarely got real with each other but when they did.

“Thanks,” John said in a slightly strangled voice.

Rodney lifted one shoulder, brushing against John’s arm.  “Yeah.  Anytime.”

John lifted his beer, cast Rodney a quick glance, smiled to himself, and took a long drink.  So maybe he was deluding himself that he could quit Rodney completely but until Rodney actually said his vows, John was gonna take all he could.

Because who knew if Rodney would stay in Atlantis after the ceremony?

* * *

John narrowly avoided slamming his head into the floor but it was a close thing.  He barely managed to get his hands out in front of him to break his fall.  Tied as they were to his ankles, it was a miracle he didn’t knock himself out.  The door slamming shut behind him echoed in his ears and he put his forehead to the stone floor, feeling the cold seep into his sweaty skin, and closed his eyes.

How could things have gone so wrong so fast?

A new world, promising energy readings that seemed to promise Ancient tech nearby . . .

And somehow, John ended up imprisoned with no clue where the rest of his team was.  If they were even alive.

No.

They were alive.  He had to believe that.  He refused to think about any other possibility.  Ronon, Teyla, and Rodney were alive and they were going to rescue him.  It’s what they did.  They’d go back to the gate, get reinforcements from Atlantis, maybe a ‘jumper, and then come back and kick ass until they found him.  Well, Teyla and Rodney would.  Lorne would lead the cavalry, of course.  He assumed Ronon was imprisoned somewhere nearby as well. 

But that’s what he would have done.  John would—and had—moved Heaven and Earth (in a matter of speaking) to find his people.  Several times.  No man left behind.  John had brought that military maxim to Atlantis and beat it into the heads of everyone who set foot in the city.  Of course, it had taken Rodney several reminders before he actually started to believe John when he said they wouldn’t leave him behind.

John slowly sat back on his ankles, feeling the rope go slack, rested his hands on his knees, and let out a slow breath.  His ribs protested and he winced.  Christ, this sucked.  He scooted across the stone floor to lean against the wall, leaving a trail in the dust.

So.

Nothing left to do but stare around at his empty cell.

And wait.

Right.

To kill time, John went back through the mission in his mind.  The team had left Atlantis that morning on a routine mission to a new gate address found in the Ancient databases but had no information about it.  MALP sent back favorable readings so Woolsey gave them a go.  They followed what looked like a game trail until it led to a clearing with what looked like an outpost.  With John’s gene assistance, Rodney managed to get the door crystals working and the team spent the afternoon exploring.  Well, Teyla and Ronon explored.  John babysat Rodney, occasionally touching things after assuring that he wouldn’t accidentally activate a trap that would kill them or something.

John shifted on the stone floor, wincing as the rope tugged against his wrists.  When it came time to head back to the Stargate for the scheduled check-in, well . . . That was when the fun started.  The team had walked outside to find two dozen locals waiting for them, armed with bows and arrows and what looked like spears or javelins.

John had immediately tried to diffuse the situation, stepping forward slowly with his hands raised and an easy smile on his face.  Unfortunately, the locals did not speak any form of English that he could figure so he had asked Teyla for help.  Teyla had tried to explain that they were travelers and didn’t mean to overstep any boundaries, but it didn’t seem to soothe their ruffled feathers any.  Rodney had called John’s attention to a couple archers on the fringes moving closer.  John made a snap decision, ordered Teyla to get Rodney to the gate.  Rodney had scoffed as Teyla had nodded.  John smiled faintly as he remembered Rodney’s are-you-stupid tone of voice when he’d asked how John had planned for them to get through the Merry Men in order to reach the gate.  John’s plan?

Escalate things.  That usually provided enough chaos to get the team an escape route.

How?

He took a step forward.  An arrow flew towards him; John leaned to the side, Ronon fired, and all hell broke loose.  At some point, John clearly remembered seeing Teyla and Rodney make a run for the game trail, catching Rodney’s glance back as he ran.  He remembered feeling relief that at least Rodney was safe and then there was pain and no more until he regained consciousness while being dragged down a corridor then summarily thrown into his current locale.

His stomach growled.  “Tell me about it,” he muttered.  John shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position but he couldn’t even stretch his legs out thanks to the rope.  And it was a hell of a rope, too, so far unyielding in his attempts to break it.  He wondered how long he’d been in the cell.  It felt like a few hours but having been unconscious until recently, John really had no clue how long it had actually been.

He had no way to tell time other than his stomach.  He really hoped Woolsey hadn’t written him off.  Hell, Teyla had been held prisoner by Michael for months and they never gave up looking for her . . . despite Carter’s misgivings.

So maybe it wasn’t that far-fetched to think that they’d write him off as KIA.

All in all, not a bad way to go.  Although he would prefer a quicker death than this.  Anything would beat slowly starving to death.  John would take a visit from a Wraith at this point.

Although he did wonder what they wanted with him . . .

* * *

“Look,” John said wearily, “I don’t know what you’re saying.  Clearly, you don’t know what I’m saying.  So can’t you just—cut me loose and we’ll call it even?”

The man standing in front of him simply continued to glare at John.  John sighed. 

He was kneeling on a hard stone floor in what looked like a primitive throne room, flanked by two men with very large spears.  He was trying not to look at them because they were only wearing loincloths and tattoos.  And lots of bracelets.  There was a chair at the front of the room, up on a slightly raised platform.  A couple tables lined one wall full of bowls of fruit.  Those trying to curry favor or maybe concubines, John wasn’t sure, gathered in twos and threes in the corners but they all stared at John and his escorts openly, like he was the most fascinating thing they’d seen in years.

The man in front of him—John was starting to think of him as the local version of a sultan since he had the most bracelets, a brightly colored loincloth and a weird hat which apparently put him in charge—gestured and the guy on John’s left jerked his spear.  John gritted his teeth as it nailed him in the back of the head.

“So that’s a no?  Okay, how about my friend?  You seen him around?  Big guy, long hair, bad temper?  Sound familiar?”

The sultan spoke.  “Kua whakapokea e koe to matou hiero.  He aha?  He aha te mea i tumanako koe ki te whakatutuki?”

John blinked.  “What?”

The sultan scowled.  “Whakautu mai ki ahau!”

When John didn’t respond, the guy on his right hit him.  John glared at him, then at the sultan for good measure and snapped, “I don’t know what you want!”

The sultan crossed his arms and studied John for a moment.  “Mahalo e fie ma’u ha fakalotolahi,” he said and jerked his chin.

The guys each grabbed one of John’s arms and hauled him to his feet.  The sultan eyed him then said, “Tangohia ia.  Ko te pou kia wewete i tona arero.”  Then he walked away.

That didn’t sound good.  John was led out of the room and out of the village.  _Oh boy_ , he thought when he saw what must be their destination.  There was pillar of sorts placed along the side of the trail entering the camp with a ring near the top.  His escorts led him straight to it.  Untying his hands from the rope binding them to his ankles, they dragged John to the rock and bound his hands to the ring.  It was just at the edge of his reach and his shoulders burned slightly as the muscles were stretched.  They tied his feet to another set of rings that he hadn’t noticed before set into the ground, then they cut off his shirt and walked away.

Great.

* * *

Sweat had steadily dripped down his skin for hours, getting in his eyes.  Stinging his chapped lips.  His arms had long since gone numb.  He had a headache from squinting against the twin suns beating down on him until he could no longer hold his head up.

No one had come to check on him since he’d been tied to the rock pillar hours earlier and John had lost track of time.  All he could definitively say was it was still daytime.  John knew he was in trouble when he stopped feeling the perspiration drip.

So when a shadow drifted across his face, it was a struggle to lift his head even slightly.  His guards from earlier were back.  They split apart and the sultan-dude stepped forward.  “Kei te rite koe te whakaae?”

John tried to ask for water but he was so parched, it made him cough instead.

The sultan shook his head and walked away.  The other two stepped forward and cut John loose.  He face planted in the dirt.  John couldn’t even summon the energy to fight as they dragged him off although he was very grateful to be returned to his stony cell.  The floor was cool and felt wonderful against his flushed skin.

* * *

Maybe it was just him but John thought he was starting to figure the language out.  At the very least, he was recognizing words as having been used before. 

Did this planet even have a nighttime rotation?  How long were their days?  How many days had he been here?  It felt like John only spent a couple hours in his cell before being returned to that damned pillar and the suns were just as bright every time.

John stumbled and received a spear jab to the side as a reward. 

“Neke!” the warrior ordered, jabbing him again.

“Where . . . are we . . . going?” John asked, his voice hoarse.  The people blurred a bit in front of him and he blinked a few times.

The warrior just repeated, “Neke!”

Where the fuck was his team?

The path opened up and John felt his heart sink.  They were leading him to a pole in the middle of an open area.  As they got closer, he noticed the rents in the wood.  The darkened dirt around the bottom of the pole.  If he hadn’t been dehydrated already, John was pretty sure his mouth would have gone dry at the sight.

They intended to kill him.

Oh god.  Okay.  Okay, there had to be a way out of this.  Right?

He stopped walking; tried to get his muzzy brain to work.  Both warriors hit him until he started forward again.  He cast his gaze around, frantically searching for an ally, an escape route, anything to avoid what he knew was coming.

Where were Rodney and Teyla with backup?

For that matter, where was Ronon?

His heart sunk further.  Oh no, did they kill him, too?  Was that why the dirt was stained?

John struggled to keep his breathing even as panic started to overtake him. 

Sitrep.  Right.  That was what he needed.  Okay.

Fact one: his hands were tied.  In front of him, this time.

Fact two: he was wearing only his BDU pants.  When had he lost his shoes?  Crap.

Fact three: they were ten feet from the pole.

Fact four: he definitely did not have the strength to fight off all of the villagers.  And he had no weapons.

Fact five . . . 

Pressure on his back propelled him the last few feet to the pole where his wrists were yanked up and tied to the pole.

Fact five: he was a dead man.

A rope snaked around his waist, pulling him back against the pole.  He winced as it brushed against his sunburned skin.

John kept glancing around the area, hoping to recognize his team but already resigning himself to the bitter fact that they had abandoned him.

The sultan stepped forward, folded his hands in front of him, and said solemnly, “E toru nga ra i mua i kite matou ia koe i roto i to matou hiero.  E titauhia te hoê tusia no te i te hiero.”

John flinched as something pressed against his throat from behind.  A trickle of wetness slid down his throat.  Blood.  He blinked rapidly, breathing fast.  Shit shit shit, that was a knife.  There was a knife at his throat.

Defeated, John thought, _So this is it, then.  This is how I die._   Funnily enough, John had never envisioned his stay in the Pegasus Galaxy ending in anything this . . . well, mundane.  Considering how many times he’d nearly blown himself up, a knife to the throat just seemed so pedestrian.

John closed his eyes as his head was pushed forward, hunched over the blade.  So much for rescue.  Anger flared briefly at the thought.  How many times had he done anything to rescue his people over the years and they couldn’t even manage to come fight off some villagers with spears to rescue him?  Maybe he didn’t mean as much to them as they meant to him.

Always nice to have those wonderful life-affirming thoughts when you’re about to die.

“Tīmata!”

The blade pressed against his throat.  _So long, Rodney_ , John’s first goodbye to the man he loved popped into his mind as pain made him breathe in sharply.  John hoped that Rodney, at least, would mourn him.

A sharp report sounded and the pressure disappeared from his throat.  A thump sounded behind him and he slowly turned his head, looking around to see what had happened to his almost-executioner.  A hulking man wearing several necklaces, tattoos and a loincloth lay on the ground, a hole in his forehead, blood trickling out of it.

John frowned in confusion then had to look up as shouts and screams reached him.  Several people in blue and gray swarmed the area, then took up position between him and the now panicking villagers.  What the . . . .?

Three figures forced their way through the line and up to him.  Relief so strong he nearly passed out flooded through him as he recognized his team.  Ronon stepped around behind him and slit the ropes holding him to the pole.  Rodney and Teyla caught him as his legs buckled.

Ronon was alive.

His team had come for him.  And with a shit ton of backup.  He sagged against his teammates—his friends.

Sliding an arm around his waist, Rodney said softly, “Don’t worry, John; we’ve got you.”

John really wanted to say something, something meaningful.  Like, I was thinking about you.  What came out instead was a weak, “Cutting it . . . a bit close . . . aren’t you?”

Rodney’s grip on him tightened.  “You have no idea how hard it was to find you two.”

John made a questioning sound and Teyla answered, “These people covered their tracks very well and we did not find Ronon until yesterday.  He had been left in a cave while you were brought here.” 

Rodney nodded, then peered at him.  “Shit.  Teyla, do you have a bandage on you?  His throat’s bleeding.”

Oh yeah.  The knife.  He heard Teyla open one of her Velcro-ed pockets and then something soft was pressed against his neck.  “Do not worry, John,” Teyla reassured him as she taped it down.  “You will be home soon.”  Turning to the wall of what John now realized were Marines, she called, “Major Lorne!  We are ready to go when you are.”

Lorne?

“Alright, form up around the Colonel.  Let’s move out!”

“Come on, John,” Rodney murmured as the Marines formed a protective circle around the four of them.

John let Rodney take most of his weight and focused on putting one foot in front of the other.  The events of the last few days had taken their toll, though, and he stumbled repeatedly, his legs buckled under him a few times, but Rodney or Ronon caught him each time he went down.  John kept his gaze on his feet, feeling like that one simple act took everything he had.  Eventually, Rodney made him stop.  Looking up to find out why, John blinked as Teyla vanished before his eyes.

“Ro’ney?” he mumbled as a Marine vanished.

“Yeah?”

“Where’re they goin’?”

Rodney shifted his grip, pulling more of John’s weight onto him.  “Into the ‘jumper.”

Jumper?

“Puddlejumper.  It’s cloaked.”

Oh.  Wait, had he said that out loud?  God, he was tired.

Teyla reappeared but she wasn’t alone.  The other person rushed towards him and John flinched away. 

“Hey hey hey,” Rodney said quickly, “it’s okay.  It’s Jennifer.  Dr. Keller.”

Keller’s brow furrowed.  “I can tend to him inside.  In fact, it’s probably best to get him out of the sun.  Here,” she moved forward, slower this time, “let me help.”

John’s legs buckled again.  He heard Rodney swear then he was practically dragged into the ‘jumper but it was such a relief to sit.  He closed his eyes and leaned his head back.  Sitting was nice.  He was never going to complain about sitting again.  His heart thudded in his ears.

“John.”

“Mmm?” John mumbled, cracking his eyes open.  Rodney stood before him, holding out a water bottle.  John accepted it gratefully and immediately dropped it.  He couldn’t make his fingers tighten around it.  The lines on his face deepening in concern, Rodney picked the bottle up and sat down on John’s right, unscrewed the cap and put the bottle to John’s lips.

Cool refreshing liquid filled his mouth and he closed his eyes.  He ended up coughing most of it back up when it hit his dry throat.  He shivered.  The conversations blurred and he felt something settled across his shoulders, possibly one of the emergency blankets.  The second attempt with the water went better and he managed to keep most of it down.

Teyla settled on his other side while the soldiers loaded up.  Keller knelt in front of him, opening a bag.  She pulled out a tube of something and started coating his chest with it.  He jerked at the unexpected chill—spilling some of the water as he pulled away—but then a bit of the heat dissipated so he let her keep going.  Rodney offered the bottle again and he proceeded to drain it.

Lorne walked by as Keller put the tube away.  “Ready to get outta here, sir?”

John managed, “If you wouldn’t mind?”

Rodney reached over to give his hand a squeeze.  Teyla’s shoulder pressed against his.  Clutching the blanket around him, John felt . . . safe, sandwiched between them with Ronon across from them.  His friends had come for him.

The hatch closed.  John felt himself nod off as the ‘jumper headed for the Stargate.

* * *

“Are you certain you should be out of the infirmary already, John?”

John shifted so his back wasn’t touching the chair as much and smiled at Teyla.  “Keller said the worst was the sunburn and that doesn’t require an infirmary stay.  It is uncomfortable, yes, but I did my overnight while she pumped fluids into me.”  He lifted a water bottle.  “And I’m continuing to rehydrate slowly so as not to shock my system.  Following doctor’s orders.  Appreciate the concern, though.”

A tray clattered onto the table and John couldn’t fight the grin as Rodney sat down next to him.  His most recent brush with death had left him feeling really happy simply to have them close by.  This last time had been far too close for his taste.  Rodney glanced over at him.  “Well, at least you don’t look like crap anymore.”

“Thanks.”  John reached over and stole an Oreo off his tray.  Where had Rodney gotten Oreos?

Rodney grabbed his fork and took a bite of the meatloaf they were serving for dinner.  John had eaten before leaving the infirmary and was content to simply hang out with his team in the mess.  Ronon had left a few minutes ago, claiming date night with Banks.  “You really need to stop ordering Teyla to drag me to the gate when we get attacked,” Rodney informed him, his mouth full.

John raised an eyebrow, shifting again.  Unfortunately, he couldn’t go around without a shirt on, as great as that would feel.  Damn thing kept making the burns itch.  “What?”

He stole another Oreo.  Rodney swallowed and explained, “If we’d been there, we could have helped and then all _four_ of us could have gone home together.  Then we wouldn’t have had to spend the last three days trying to figure out where those crazy people took you and mount a rescue before they killed you.”

Clearly that made sense in Rodney’s mind.  John rolled his shoulders and slid down in the seat a bit more.  “Sound battle strategy states that in situations like that, sometimes splitting up is the best decision.  It allows for the possibility of a rescue as opposed to all members getting imprisoned and no possibility of a rescue.”  John shrugged and ate the rest of the cookie.  John briefly wondered why Rodney wasn’t making a fuss over the fact that John was stealing food off his tray.  Normally, he threw a fit.  John took a drink of water and added, “I’d have appreciated a rescue earlier, though.  Not really a fan of forced tanning.”

Rodney snorted and started in on his mashed potatoes.  “Only you would turn a near-death experience into a joke, Sheppard.”

“I’m too pale for a tan.”  John grinned.  “I burn easily.”

Rodney’s glare only made him grin wider.  God, it was good to be back with the team.  Rodney turned the tray so the last couple cookies were within easier reach.  Had Rodney gotten them purposely for him?  John bumped Rodney’s shoulder lightly as he took another one.  Rodney’s glare softened and he said quietly, “You do realize I’m never going to be able to get rid of the sight of you with a knife to your throat, right?”

The cookie stalled on the way to his stomach.  Teyla quietly excused herself, stopping by the windows to pick up Torren from where he’d been coloring with Cadman.

“I . . .” John started but quickly realized he had no idea what he was going to say.  He fumbled with his water bottle, picking at the label.

“Those three days we spent not knowing where you were, if you were alive . . .” Rodney shook his head.  “I hate going through that.  I hate that it keeps happening.  See, this is why I can’t leave Atlantis.  What would I do if something like this happened and I could have helped but I wasn’t here to save you?  I’d never forgive myself.”

“ _Rodney_ ,” John said, touched.

“Never mind,” Rodney muttered, and went back to his dinner.

“Hey,” John reached over and put a hand on his arm.  Rodney looked at it for a moment then at him.  John said seriously, “I know it sucks.  And I know how hard it is to not know the fate of a friend.”

Rodney interrupted to inform him, “If this is meant to be reassuring, you’re failing.”

John rolled his eyes.  “Would you let me be serious for once?  Look, I get that you worry and I appreciate that, I do.  But this is my job.  I’m supposed to be first in and last out.  Besides, so long as I know that one of us got away, there’s hope.”  Ignoring the fact that he had indeed given up hope, John pulled his hand away and stole the last Oreo.  “I worry about you, too, you know.”

The corners of Rodney’s mouth lifted up in a quick smile.  “Just so we’re clear,” Rodney said and scooted his chair closer.  After a minute, he asked, “How’s your sunburn?”

John shifted, reminded of the itch.  “Annoying and itching like crazy, thanks for the reminder.”

Rodney eyed him.  “You sure you should be out of the infirmary?”

John rolled his eyes.  “Teyla literally just asked me that.  Yes, Keller let me go but wants me off rotation til it heals.”

Rodney drank some coffee.  “Are you putting anything on it?”

“Keller gave me a cream to put on but my shirt keeps rubbing on it, making it itch and I can’t scratch it.  It’s driving me crazy.  I’m about ready to just chuck it and walk around shirtless.”

Rodney chuckled.  “That would be quite the sight.”

John cocked an eyebrow.  “Oh would it?  Have you thought about me shirtless, McKay?” he flirted, knowing he shouldn’t even as he did.

Rodney flushed.  John straightened a little.  Not the reaction he’d been expecting.  Holy shit, did Rodney _like_ like him?

No, of course not. 

But there had been moments where . . .

No.  It was stupid to get his hopes up.  John could just pass it off as teasing, something they always did.

“Please,” Rodney scoffed, avoiding John’s gaze, his cheeks pinking.  “I’m just feeling sorry for the female population of the city, denied the sight of your lobster red skin.”

Disappointment flooded through him.  “Right.  Of course.”  It’s not like it wasn’t the first time Rodney had commented on his looks.

“So,” John said, attempting to change the topic, “uh, any idea who’s in charge of movie night this week?”

* * *

John nodded to a pair of airmen as he passed them in the halls.  They saluted him and kept going.  He stopped in the next intersection as something caught his attention.

Was that . . . music?

There weren’t any instruments in Atlantis.  Well, other than personal items they’d brought from Earth and those typically stayed in the living quarters or rec room.  With a sigh, John headed in that direction, thinking maybe someone had accidently activated an Ancient device.  If they had, there was no way it was benign enough to simply play music.

Not with their luck.

The music came from a room up ahead.  John intended to berate the stupid scientist who had decided to activate Ancient tech without him, Rodney, or Zelenka present only to stop dead in the doorway.

Rodney and Keller spun around the empty room.  He stared.  They were both wearing civilian clothes and he was stunned to see Keller in a dress, her skirt hitting Rodney’s legs as they danced.  A laptop sat on the floor against a wall.

“ _Promise me you’ll always be happy by my side.  I promise to sing to you when all the music dies_.”

Bitterness twisted John’s mouth as he realized they were practicing for their first dance as a married couple.  Neither one noticed him watching as Keller stopped and said something.  Rodney shifted position and they began again.

God, he’d been so stupid to get his hopes up.  He couldn’t believe how stupid he was to think that Rodney had actually been flirting with him.  As the wedding got closer, John had been finding it harder and harder to keep his real feelings about the situation hidden and he knew he hadn’t been totally successful.  Keller had been acting more annoyed with him than usual and he kept catching Rodney watching him. 

Rodney spun Keller out and then back in and she laughed, her delight making John grimace.

Eyes burning, he slowly backed out into the hall and away from the pair.  Maybe he just wasn’t destined to have love.  Things were clear—first the failure of a marriage with Nancy, then his failure with Holland that sent him to a base in the middle of Nowhere, Antarctica.  His one-way ticket to Atlantis, DADT, Rodney being unavailable.

He could take a message.

If only Earth felt even remotely like home, John might have considered requesting a transfer.

But he couldn’t leave Atlantis over a broken heart.  He was stronger than that and it wasn’t like he didn’t have practice at pretending not to care or faking happiness for someone else.  He’d been doing it since his mom died.  Just because he was having a little trouble managing it now didn’t mean he couldn’t keep on doing it in the future.  Just a couple more weeks and things would be back to normal.

John made an abrupt turn, heading for the gym.  Getting the shit beat out of him by Ronon sounded like a really good plan right about now.

* * *

“Next wave inbound!”

John squeezed his eyes shut in concentration, his fingers sinking into the goo as he reached out with his mind to the stores of drones in the bowels of the city, latching onto a dozen or so and sending them up and out.  “Drones en route, Jumpers keep an eye out.  Don’t want anyone getting caught in the crossfire,” John ordered over the radio.

“Jumper Two, copy.”

“Jumper Three, copy.”

“Jumper Four, copy.”

John tracked everyone in the HUD, his eyes closed.  He was breathing hard.  Using the chair for a prolonged period of time was draining on the user but it needed to be done.  Two Wraith cruisers had arrived early that morning and immediately launched an attack.  Rodney had barely gotten the shield up in time, a couple of darts sneaking through before it closed.  He still wanted to know how the hell they’d evaded the long-range scanners, but he’d yell at McKay for that later.

The HUD disappeared from view and the drones suddenly dropped into the ocean.

Opening his eyes, John swore.  “McKay!  What the hell just happened?”

“I-I-I don’t know,” Rodney answered, sounding distracted over the radio.

“What do you mean, you don’t know!” John snapped.  “I’ve got three ‘jumpers up there and no protection!  Why did I lose the drones?  For that matter, why am I losing connection with the chair?”

“I said I don’t know, Sheppard!”

“Well figure it out!”  John shoved his fingers deeper into the goo, shut his eyes and strove to find the connection again.  He sent a tendril of a question into Atlantis.  A moment later, he got an answer in the return of the HUD, but it flickered uncertainly.  “Damn it,” he muttered, gritting his teeth.  “ _McKay._ ”

“I’m working on it!  Oh shit.”

“What?”

Rodney’s voice went flat.  “We just lost the shield.”

John’s eyes snapped open.  “What?  How?”

“How the hell should I know?”

“Figure it out!”

“Colonel Sheppard, come in!”  A hurried, whispered voice interrupted their conversation.

“This is Sheppard, go ahead.”

“This is Sergeant Davison, sir.  There are Wraith in the city!”

John swore, hopped off the chair and nearly toppled over from the sudden vertigo.  He shook his head, blinking several times, as he grabbed the arm to steady himself.  “Whoa,” he muttered.  He’d been in there too long.  Regaining his equilibrium, he grabbed his gun and took off.  “Where are you?”

“Lower levels, south side.  There’s too many to take on by myself, sir.  I need help.”  Davison kept his voice low.

John whipped around a corner, took the stairs two at a time.  “Lorne, Ronon, grab your teams and meet me down there.”

Lorne acknowledged, “En route, Colonel.”

“On it,” Ronon said gruffly.

“Hang in there, soldier.”  John had to grab the railing to keep from falling then kept going.  “McKay, help direct Lorne and Ronon to my position.  For that matter, make sure I don’t run into any on my way.”

Rodney asked, “Where’s your Life Signs Detector?”

John snapped, “Rodney!”

“Fine!” Rodney snapped back.  “Go down two more levels and take a left.”  He paused then added in a quieter tone, “Be careful, John.”

John smiled briefly as he continued pounding down the stairs.  Hitting the correct level, John raised his P90 and cautiously advanced, his gaze fixed on the intersection ahead.  When he reached it, he flattened himself against the wall and slowly peered around the corner.  Clear.  John set off for the next intersection at a light jog.

Approaching footsteps forced him to slow then stop.  Sounded like they were coming from the left.  John repeated his actions, sliding forward until he could see then stepped forward with a grin.  “Major, good to see you.”

Major Lorne and four marines joined him.  “You seen Ronon’s team yet?”

John shook his head.  “Rodney?”

“He’s a level below you.  Ronon, take that staircase; I’ll have them meet you there.”  Rodney directed John’s group to the meeting place then towards the Wraith.  It looked like they were trying to hack into Atlantis’ mainframe, which explained why John had lost contact with the chair and why they’d lost the shield. 

As they got closer, John slowed the group and said softly, “Davison, it’s Sheppard.  What’s your twenty?”

No response.  John glanced at Lorne who returned his look, mouth tightened into a grim line.  Yeah, John thought.  Not good.  He tried again.  “Davison, I’m here.  Where are you?”

Still no response.

“Rodney, can you get a lock on Davis—” Gunfire interrupted him.  Fuck.  “Move!” John ordered and whipped around the corner.

Six Wraith stood around a seventh leaning over a console.  John opened fire, his team joining suit.  Two hit the ground, taken by surprise, but then the other four started firing back.  They kept John from getting to the hacker.  And since when did the Wraith know how to hack Ancient tech?

A marine dropped with a cry, taken out by a stunner.  First time John thought he was grateful that the Wraith liked to stun and kill at a later time.  The remaining Wraith advanced on the Lanteans.  John moved sideways, trying to get a good shot at the hacker.  Lorne and Ronon moved in tandem, the red blasts from Ronon’s gun mingling with the blasts from the Wraith stun guns.  A Wraith fell, bleeding from the neck.  A second stumbled backwards.

Another marine dropped.  Damn it.  Frustration rose in John.

Wait, that hadn’t come from the group in front of them.  John spun and growled, “Rodney, you’re supposed to warn me!”  He opened fire on the four Wraith that had appeared behind them.  Two marines joined him, Ronon, Lorne and the rest still trying to take out the ones at the console.

“I’m a bit busy at the moment,” Rodney snapped back and he could hear Zelenka’s rapid Czech in the background.  “I’ve got some control back but it’s limited and meanwhile they’re still hacking the system.  It’s taking both me and Zelenka to keep them from taking back complete control.”

Something hit him in the back, and he spared a glance over his shoulder to see a marine literally back to back to him.  His P90 clicked empty.  “Damn it.”  He yanked a fresh clip out of his vest and reloaded but in the few seconds that took, the Wraith dropped one of his men.

John fired again and again, spraying bullets at all four Wraith as evenly as he could.

Lorne shouted, “Colonel, we’re outnumbered!”

“We have to get them away from the console,” he shouted back.  _Think, John_ , he thought.  _Think.  Gotta find a way to fix this._   He shot a glance over his shoulder as his foes dropped from four to three.  Three Wraith remained covering their hacker.  Six total.  Okay, crazy idea time.  John ordered, “Swap places with me.”

Lorne threw him a startled look.  “What?”

“On three.  You and Ronon take on the ones behind us, I’ll get the hacker away from the console.”

Ronon glanced at him this time.  “You sure, Sheppard?”

“Nope.  But we’re doing it anyway.”  John took a deep breath and said, “Three!”

The three of them spun as one, John dropped his gun, yanked out his knife, snapped, “Cover me!” and dashed forward.  The marines left did their best to keep the Wraith occupied.  John ducked a hand, dropped to his knees, and sliced out.  The Wraith hissed at him but he slid past the guards and surged to his feet, stumbling across the remaining distance to the console.

The Wraith hacker looked up at him, his eyes wide, and hurriedly tapped at something.  John threw his knife and felt something hit him in the back.  Several somethings.

He fell, hearing something slam behind him.  John blinked, feeling numbness spreading out from his lower back.

“Yes!” he heard Rodney crow faintly in his ear.  “We’ve got control back!  John, you did it!”

John struggled to get to his feet, fighting the effects of the stunner.  He made it to his hands and knees, looked behind him and felt his stomach drop.

There was a wall behind him.  The compartment had sealed itself.  Or the Wraith had sealed it?

“John?  You there?”

His vision was graying.  He thought Wraith stunners worked faster than this.  Wait.  The hacker.  He slowly turned his head.  His knife had actually managed to sever the Wraith’s neck in half.  He did it.

“Colonel!  Colonel, it’s Lorne; can you hear me?  McKay, we can’t get to him.  There’s a wall in the way; came out of nowhere.”

Rodney said, “I’m coming down.  Just hang on.  Major, do you see any sort of control box or sensor panel nearby?  John, damn it, talk to me!”

Lorne said, “McKay, I see nothing.  Is there any way we can get around to the other side?”

Zelenka responded, “Major, there are more Wraith headed to the Colonel’s location.  I can talk you through a detour but you must be fast.”

Wraith.  In Atlantis.  He had to fight.  Had to get up.  “Rodney,” he said weakly, his fingers scrabbling for purchase.  He got one hand steady, pushed, and felt it slide.  Oh.  Oh that was blood.  His blood?  Or Wraith blood?

“John, help is on the way.  Zelenka’s guiding Lorne to you and I’m on my way to fix the door.”  Rodney sounded panicked and John couldn’t find the energy to reassure him.  “Don’t you dare die on me, John Sheppard!  Damn it, I need you!”

John’s eyes slid shut. 

“John!  John, answer me.  _John_!”

* * *

John grimaced at the cacophony of shouting and beeping that greeted him upon awakening.  Sitting up slowly, John realized he was in the infirmary.  His head pounded and he tried to remember the events that led to him waking up in a hospital bed, alone.  His chest twinged with disappointment, and strangely hurt.  There’d always been a member of his team at his bedside whenever he’s been wounded in the past and to find none of them here . . .

“Oh, good, you’re awake.”  Keller whipped the curtain aside and pulled a penlight out of a pocket.  Gripping his chin, she shone it first it one eye then the other.

He tried to flinch away but she held him tight.  “How did I get here?  Last thing I remember is a door blocking my team off and Wraith in the city.”

“Rodney got the door open, Major Lorne and his men took care of the Wraith that were approaching your position, and Ronon carried you here.”  She let go of him, stepped back and dropped the penlight back into her pocket.  “Your pupils are still a little dilated, I’m assuming from the effects of the repeated stunner shots.  How’s your arm?”

Confused—he didn’t remember getting hit in the arm—John looked down.  A bandage was wrapped around his bicep.  Had all that blood really come from his arm?  Or was he remembering Wraith blood mixed in with his?  “I feel fine.”

Keller rolled her eyes but said, “Fine.  Go on, get out of here.  I know you’ll escape soon anyway and I don’t see a reason to keep you here when I could use the bed for someone else.  You’re the least injured, for once.”  She walked away without another word.

John stared after her, wondering at her apparent lack of concern.  Usually, she would order him confined to bed for at least the next day.  Well, he’d take his good luck and go find out what was going on outside.  Hopping off the bed, John threaded his way past medical personnel and out into the hall.  He nearly bumped into Marie on his way.

“Colonel,” she greeted him with a smile, her arms full of fresh bandages.

“Hey, Marie.  How long was I out?”

“A few hours.”  She looked around the infirmary.  Keller was helping a soldier into the bed John had just vacated.  Marie frowned.  “Dr. McKay was here not long ago, waiting for you to wake up, I assume, but he must have been called away while I was in storage.”

The knowledge that Rodney had indeed been by his bedside warmed John and he thanked Marie for the info before heading for the transporter.  He let the smile out as he went—Rodney had been worried about him—then had a memory flash.  Rodney, sounding panicked, telling him to hang on and that he needed John.

He tapped a location on the map.  Now he understood why Keller wanted him gone.  Hearing your fiancé tell his best friend that he needs him over the citywide had to be annoying, to say the least.   John walked across the top balcony portion of the control room, noting the surprising amount of people behind the glass wall.  Woolsey was there, of course, along with Lorne, Ronon, Teyla, Chuck, Zelenka and Rodney.  Zelenka, Rodney and Chuck were bent over the computers as John walked in to join the group.

Rodney spotted him first, straightening at his arrival, and the relief in his face hit John hard, forcing him to a standstill as he processed.  Rodney started towards him, the relief shifting to worry.  He reached out a hand, rested it on John’s shoulder, and asked, “Are you okay?  Are you even supposed to be out of the infirmary?”

John leaned into the touch and reassured, “Slight headache and a flesh wound.  I’m fine.  How are things up here?  Did we get ‘em all?  Did we get control of the systems back?”  Rodney stuck to his side as he joined the group.  Teyla sent him a welcoming smile which John returned with a nod, then shifted his focus to his XO.  He couldn’t deal with emotions right now, shoving everything to the side as he focused on the fallout of the attack.

Lorne reported, “All Wraith destroyed.  Shield is back up.  We don’t have anyone to spare to check on the Ancient chair since I’ve been working clean up.  Systems are back under our control—”

“But we are making sure that they did not leave virus behind,” Zelenka interjected, pushing his glasses up his nose.

John nodded.  “Losses on our side?”

“Significant,” Lorne said quietly.  “We lost Jumper Three to a kamikaze dart.  We lost nine men in that little firefight downstairs.  Davison was in the corridor on the other side, drained.”

John closed his eyes briefly.  Too late.  He’d been too late.  Another soldier dead because he hadn’t made it in time.  A hand slipped into his and squeezed.  John shot Rodney a startled look.  Rodney met his gaze steadily.  “You took out the Wraith that was hacking our systems in time for us to get the shield up before the next wave.  The ‘jumpers managed to get a coordinated drone attack to the engine of the cruiser.  Damaged it enough to send them off with their tails between their legs.”

“They’ll be back,” Ronon said.

“And we’ll be ready for them,” John said firmly.  A ‘jumper and its crew dead because he wasn’t there to protect them.  He gave Rodney’s hand a squeeze then pulled his hand free and said, “Major, I assume you’ve gathered our dead?”  When Lorne nodded, John said, “Good.  Organize another sweep of the city.  They’ve evaded our detectors before and I do not want a repeat.  I’m gonna head down to the chair, check on things down there.  Keep me apprised.”

Lorne nodded, “Yes, sir.”

John turned and headed out, intending to re-arm himself before heading to the chair room.  When footsteps sounded behind him, he turned to see Rodney on his heels.  “What are you doing?”

“I’m going with you.”

“That’s nice, but you don’t have to.  It’ll only take me a couple minutes to check that things are working as they should.”

Rodney scowled at him as they made their way through the halls.  “You were unconscious three hours ago, shot by at least three Wraith stunners, somehow managed to stab yourself or shoot yourself or something and don’t think I didn’t notice that you didn’t assign yourself any back-up.  Lorne’s too brainwashed to call you on it, so, yes, Colonel, I am coming with you.  Even if it’s just to call for help when you inevitably try and kill yourself doing something stupidly heroic again.”

John ducked his head to hide his pleased smile as they entered the armory.  John grabbed a vest, tossed one to Rodney, then grabbed a P90 for himself and a couple magazines.  Rodney’s concern for him would never not make him feel good.  Handing Rodney a P90, he said, “Appreciate the confidence, Rodney.  And don’t sell yourself short.  You’ve saved my ass plenty of times; I’m happy to have you at my side.”

Rodney studied him, as if sensing bullshit, then nodded firmly.  “Good.  At your side is where I belong.  Now let’s go; and tell me if you’re about to keel over.”

John chuckled and led the way to the closest transporter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, about the other language used in that one scene. I used Google Translate so I'm really just hoping that if you actually speak Maori, the gist of it comes across. If you don't, or didn't feel like translating it, here you go:
> 
> "Kua whakapokea e koe to matou hiero. He aha? He aha te mea i tumanako koe ki te whakatutuki?" should translate as "You have defiled our temple. What? What did you expect to achieve?"
> 
> “Whakautu mai ki ahau!” should translate as "Answer me!"
> 
> “Mahalo e fie ma’u ha fakalotolahi,” should translate as "You may need encouragement,"
> 
> “Tangohia ia. Ko te pou kia wewete i tona arero.” should translate as "Take it. The pillar should open its (should be his but I couldn't figure out how to do that) tongue."
> 
> “Kei te rite koe te whakaae?” should translate as "Are you ready to agree?" (as in, are you ready to admit you purposely defiled our religious site?)
> 
> "Neke!" should translate as "Move!"
> 
> “E toru nga ra i mua i kite matou ia koe i roto i to matou hiero. E titauhia te hoê tusia no te i te hiero.” should translate as "Three days ago we saw you in our temple. It requires a sacrifice for the temple."
> 
> “Tīmata!” should translate as "Start!"


	3. Chapter Three

“I have translations to work on from P3Z-7Y1.”

“Uh huh,” John said noncommittally as he kept a hand on Rodney’s shoulder and listened to his repeated attempts to get John to tell him where they were going and why.  He was keeping to his best man duties and was extremely grateful not to have to be alone tonight, despite the reason.

“You know I can’t leave those morons unsupervised for long,” Rodney tried again.

“They were smart enough to be sent here,” John said calmly, “so they’re smart enough to be left alone for a few hours.  They are also smart enough to go to bed at a normal time, unlike you.”

Rodney harrumphed and crossed his arms.  Then he uncrossed them and sighed.  “Are you ever going to tell me why you forced me out of my lab?  I was busy.”

“I know.  And no.”

Rodney peered at him as they stepped into the transporter, John angling his body so Rodney couldn’t see their destination.  “You have no idea where we’re going, do you?  You’re just making me walk randomly around Atlantis for some insane reason.”

John propelled him down the hall.  “I know exactly where I’m going.  I know Atlantis perfectly.  The only time you’re allowed to ask that is when we’re on a new planet.”

“Allowed?”

John sighed.  “Rodney, would you just go with the flow for once?”

Rodney scowled.  “What in my history would tell you that I am a go-with-the-flow type of person?”  John pressed his lips together and turned the corner, deciding against a response.  Rodney seemingly gave up as they walked until John stopped them.  Rodney shot him a wary glance.  “What are we doing here?  Where is here?”

John leaned a shoulder against the wall beside the door and said curiously, “Rodney, you are aware of what day it is, right?”

Rodney crossed his arms and scowled at him.  “It’s Friday, nine o’clock at night, Atlantis time.  Normally, I would be in my lab, working, or prepping for a mission.  As far as I know, we have no missions scheduled for tomorrow and you dragged me away from my work.  So I will ask again—and I expect an answer this time or I’m leaving—what is going on, John?”

John tilted his head, studying his friend.  Had he truly forgotten?  With a mental shake of his head, John simply reached out and swiped the door open.

“Surprise!”

Rodney jumped, his mouth dropping open, and John couldn’t help but grin.  Rodney stared into the room then turned to John then back to the room.  “Wha—?”

John put a hand on his lower back and gently pushed him inside.  “Welcome to your bachelor party, McKay.”

“B—bachelor party?”  Rodney sounded dumbstruck as he looked around.

John’s grin widened.  It had taken some doing to get things set.  Enlisting Zelenka and Chuck, John had found an empty room big enough to hold everything and then put the two of them in charge of keeping Rodney occupied throughout the day.  Banks and Lorne had worked to hook up a TV and game console in the room.  Caldwell had helpfully supplied the makings for pizzas, chips, dip, and beer from the last shipment they’d received.  Ronon . . . well, he’d come, and without any weird Satedan traditions about beating the crap out of Rodney or something.

Rodney looked around at the room, at the guys, and John was relieved to see a smile cross his face.  “Seriously?” he asked, pleased.

Zelenka stepped forward and handed them both a beer.  He grinned.  “Seriously, Rodney.  You are getting married tomorrow.  We must celebrate last day of bachelorhood, yes?”

John took a long drink then called out, “Lorne, you got the PS4 working?”

“Yes, sir,” Lorne replied, reaching down to grab a controller and toss it to him.

Rodney caught his arm as he headed for the couch.  In an undertone, Rodney said, “I can’t you believe you did this.  And without me knowing.”

John shrugged, pulling his arm free.  “I’m your best man; of course I was gonna throw you a bachelor party.  Now, come on.  I hear pizza and Grand Theft Auto calling my name.”

“There’s pizza?  Like, real pizza?”

* * *

Abandoned pizza crusts decorated the tables along with paper plates and chip crumbs.  Beer bottles littered the floor around the trash can from sheer laziness.

John leaned his head back against the armrest of the couch, feeling, well not drunk exactly but definitely far past buzzed.  He wasn’t so wasted that he couldn’t handle an emergency if he was needed.  The struggles of being the ranking officer.  Chuck and Lorne were passed out, Ronon and Zelenka were still playing a game.  John let his eyes slide halfway shut.  How much of that beer had been Caldwell’s supply and how much had been Zelenka’s moonshine?  He was glad he’d decided against the drinking match with Ronon, although Zelenka had proven remarkably good at keeping up with the big warrior.

A thought lazily drifted across his mind and he twisted his head to the side, trying to catch sight of McKay.

Something hit the floor beside him, yanking his attention to his other side.  Rodney settled on the floor, leaning heavily against him.

“You know,” Rodney started, waving a hand then he stopped and stared at the bottle he was waving around.  He frowned and slowly lowered his hand, putting the beer bottle on the floor.  But he didn’t continue.

Amused, John asked, “Know what?”

Rodney started.  “Huh?”

“You said, you know.  Know what?”

“Oh.”  Rodney slid down a little.  John reached around and put an arm around his shoulders, hoping to keep him from falling further.  Rodney made a pleased noise and leaned into it.  “This wa’ . . .” he yawned.  “Was nice.”  He dropped his head onto John’s shoulder, his voice dropping in volume.  “You’re—you’re a good guy, John.”

It was really nice to have Rodney close.  He tightened his grip on Rodney’s shoulder and gently plucked the bottle from his hand, setting it aside.  John pressed his lips to the top of Rodney’s head and murmured, “Anything for you, Rodney.”

Rodney’s body sagged against him and he snored loudly.  “Such a lightweight,” John said fondly then leaned his head against the couch again and closed his eyes.

* * *

“John, there you are!  I need you to come with me.”

Unfolding a chair, John grunted, “Kinda busy right now, Jeannie.”

Jeannie propped her hands on her hips and said firmly, “John Sheppard, you will come with me right now.”

He tugged another off the stack, unfolded it, and replied exasperatedly, “Jeannie, I’ve got fifteen more chairs to finish putting up and then I have to go make sure the kitchens are ready.  Not to mention figure out where Torren is with the rings.  And less than thirty minutes til the ceremony starts.  There are no teams currently off world so unless there are Wraith, Replicators, or rebel Genii attacking, there is nothing that needs my presence right now.”

Jeannie blew out her breath in a huff then stalked over, pulled the chair from his grip and forcibly shoved it at the airman who was helping him. 

John stared at her.  “What the hell, Jeannie?  This is your brother’s wedding.”

“I know that!  And I love that you’re doing everything you can to make sure it’s a wonderful day.  But you have plenty of soldiers to do this. What I need right now is for you to go and talk to Mer.”

“Why?”

“Ugh!”  She threw her hands in the air then grabbed his arm and dragged him away.  He just barely managed to snag his jacket from where he’d thrown it over a cart as he stumbled after her.  “Look, just go talk to him, okay?”

John pulled his hand free and shrugged into his jacket.  “Ok-a-a-ay.  What am I supposed to talk to him about?”

“He’s acting all weird.  He kicked Kaleb out; won’t let me in.  I think he’s panicking and I don’t know why and you’ve always been good at calming him so . . .” Jeannie shrugged.

John sighed.  He really didn’t want to walk into Rodney’s bedroom and see him getting dressed to marry Keller.  He had a pretty good idea as to why Rodney was acting weird.  He actually hadn’t talked to Rodney since that morning . . . when they’d woken up after the bachelor party, practically curled around each other.  John had no memory of how they’d ended up in that situation but he really hadn’t wanted it to end.  “Fine.  I will go talk to him.”  She gave him a relieved smile.  “But only if you check on the kitchens and find Torren.”

“Deal.”  Jeannie shoved him at a door and said, “See you in a bit.”

“Yup.”  John stood in front of Rodney’s door and took a deep breath.  This was not going to be awkward.  There was no reason for it to be awkward.  John had accepted that Rodney was never going to return his feelings and besides, there was no reason to do anything that would stress Rodney out even more.  He shoved a hand through his hair, straightened his jacket, reached out to swipe a hand over the door controls and strode in.  “Hey, McKay.  You all set?  We’ve got less than half an hour ‘til show time.”

Rodney sat on his bed, head in his hands, but he looked up at John’s entrance.  John was taken aback by the paleness of his face.  He hurried over, knelt down and asked, “Hey, you okay, buddy?”

“I can’t do this.”

John blinked.  Danger, danger.  Tread carefully.  He asked slowly, “Can’t do what?”

Rodney gave him a look usually reserved for the newest scientists and said acidly, “What do you think?”

“Okay.  Why?”

Rodney sighed and ran his hands across his face.  Lowering them, he frowned at John.  “Are you wearing your dress blues?”

“Yeah.”

“Huh.  I thought you were just gonna wear a tuxedo like the others.  You rented one, didn’t you?”  Rodney tilted his head, studying John.  “I don’t think I’ve seen you wear your blues since, you know, Carson.  You look good.  You should wear them more often.”

John swallowed and stood, ignoring the flutter in his stomach.  “Thanks.  Wasn’t really feeling the tux.  Besides, Lorne’s in his dress blues so I figured, as CO, I should be too.  Speaking of tuxes, why aren’t you dressed?”

Rodney sighed again then stood and started pacing.  “What if I’m not meant to get married?  What if Jennifer’s not the one?  What if I’m settling?  What if she’s settling?  Or what if I’m a horrible husband?  I mean, I don’t even want to go to Earth with her!  Doesn’t that mean something?  Like—like a bad omen, or something, right?”

Okay.  So, Rodney in panic-mode.  That, John could handle . . . ignoring the subject matter, of course.  He stepped into Rodney’s path, forcing his friend to stop, put his hands on Rodney’s shoulders and met his eyes.  “Rodney,” John said, his tone sincere, “there is no way you could be a bad husband.  Just the fact that you are worrying about it tells me that.”

Rodney’s shoulders lowered a bit.  “Are you sure?”  He sounded so vulnerable.

John nodded, forced a smile to his face.  God, his cheeks hurt from all the fake smiling he’d been doing today.  “Definitely.  Keller’s lucky to have you.”  He pulled away and grabbed the bowtie from the bed.  “Now, you need to finish getting dressed.”

Rodney stood still as John looped the tie around his neck and proceeded to tie it.  If it took him a little further into Rodney’s personal space than perhaps it should’ve, well, John had only a few more hours Keller-free.

“Hey, John?”

“Yeah, buddy,” John said, reaching for the tux jacket.

“Thank you.  For everything.  And, um,” Rodney hesitated and John took the opportunity to get him to slide an arm through the sleeve.  “About—about this morning.”

John stepped behind him, his breath catching.  “Don’t worry about it,” he said quickly.  “We were drunk.  Nothing happened.  It’s cool.  Arm.”

Rodney swung his other arm back and John moved in close to loop the fabric over Rodney’s shoulders, breathing in the scent of Rodney’s cologne.  _Focus_.  God, but he wanted Rodney so much.  John smoothed his hands down Rodney’s back, under the guise of making sure the jacket was sitting right.

Rodney shuddered.  John stepped around him, mentally asking the city to raise the temperature in the room.  He tugged at the collar, then took a step back and surveyed his work.  Rodney studied him, giving him that look that he usually had when a piece of Ancient tech wasn’t working the way he’d expected it to, but John had spent decades hiding his true feelings so he yanked on a fake smile, clapped Rodney on the shoulder and asked, “You ready?”

* * *

“How are you doing, John?” Teyla asked him in a quiet voice.

They’d ended up moving the ceremony to one of the piers—Keller claiming it was a better fit for the guests.  Reception was in the mess hall.  John shrugged and twitched the hem of his jacket so the flask in his inside pocket was hidden.  “Just had to talk McKay into going through with the whole thing, so, you know.  Fantastic.”

She gave him a sympathetic smile.  “I am truly sorry things did not go as you wanted, John.”

“I’m used to it.  Long as he’s happy, right?”

Music started playing and everyone turned to look back.  Torren made his way down the aisle, looking uncomfortable in his little suit, and stood next to Rodney.  Madison went next, tossing flowers randomly until she reached the front and then detoured to sit with Kaleb.  Lorne and Jeannie started down the aisle next.  After a few steps, Zelenka and one of Teyla’s Athosian friends followed.  Ronon and Banks were next and then it was time for him and Teyla.  John offered her his arm.  Teyla took it with a smile.

John tried to keep a neutral expression on his face as he and Teyla separated and he took his spot on Rodney’s left.  He leaned over to snag the rings from Torren, ruffling his hair as he did so.  Torren made a face and then scurried over to Teyla.

Then the music changed.

Keller appeared, unescorted, and John could reluctantly admit that she looked beautiful as she made her slow way up to the altar.  John glanced at Rodney, saw his bright smile, and felt his chest constrict.  God, he needed a drink.  Well, more to drink.  He caught Teyla’s eye across the way and knew where he’d be spending the night—passed out drunk in Teyla’s room.  Hopefully nothing would happen that required him to be conscious until tomorrow morning.  Or afternoon.

Keller stepped up opposite Rodney, blocking Teyla from view.  The priest—an Athosian that John hadn’t learned the name of—raised his arms and John proceeded to zone out until Ronon elbowed him.

“What?” he hissed.

Ronon whispered, “Rings.”

Oh.  Right.  He shoved a hand into his pocket, fishing them out just in time to drop them into Rodney’s hand as he turned to John.  Rodney didn’t turn immediately back around, though, giving John an unreadable look for a second.

He watched, feeling his heart break, as Rodney and Keller slid the rings onto each other’s hands.  As they each said “I do.”  And as the priest called out for anyone present to “offer up any reason why these two should not be wed, speak now or forever hold your peace,” John had to bite his cheek so hard he drew blood.

No one spoke and the priest proclaimed—John dimly registered that someone had to have coached him in Earth ceremony—“I now pronounce you husband and wife.  You may kiss the bride.”

John had to look away.  The newly married couple made their way down the aisle, to the applause of everyone there, then he and Teyla led the groomsmen and bridesmaids down.

Teyla squeezed his arm and asked softly, “Are you okay, John?”

“No,” he said past his tight throat.  “No, Teyla, I am not but that’s not important.  What’s important is Rodney having a good time and I’m not gonna ruin that for him.”  His feelings were never important.  He’d thought, though . . . but no. 

“You are a good man, John Sheppard, and you will find someone worthy of you one day, I am sure.”

_I already found him_ , John thought, his gaze locked on Rodney, _and he married someone else._

* * *

John leaned against the bar, nursing his third glass of whiskey, and looked out over the mess.  People were clustered in little groups, chatting, drinking.  He really owed Caldwell for getting the good stuff for the wedding.  And it didn’t hurt that he’d been adding a touch of Zelenka’s moonshine to the drink from the flask in his pocket.

It started slowly but eventually made its way to where John stood.  The military contingent had begun chanting “Speech!” over and over.  That would be his cue.  John tossed back the rest of his whiskey, snagged a glass of wine and headed for the front of the room.

Rodney and Keller were standing on the other side of the manufactured dais.  John stepped up onto it, glanced around the room, and said, “So, I guess I’m up.”

Chuckles greeted him.  He took a moment to think and plant his feet more firmly on the floor.  He was feeling buzzed, quite possibly on the way to actually drunk, which could only be a good thing at this point.  He was definitely further gone than he was last night.  He sort of had an idea of what to say.  “Right.  So,” John started, “as some of you know, my introduction to Rodney McKay was not even remotely normal.  By any standards.”  There were a few grins and hushed laughs from those who’d been with the Expedition since Antarctica.  “I’ll share the tale for those of you who have no idea what I’m talking about.  It’s fun.  You’ll enjoy it.

“I was a chopper pilot, stationed down in McMurdo, and for most of the time, my job included resupplying the eggheads with coffee.  One day, I’m flying some random general named O’Neill—maybe you’ve heard of him?”  A few laughs.  “Anyway, we’re headed for this research lab in the frozen armpit of the world when my alarms go off.  Some freaky-ass squid-thing starts dogging us.  We survived the squid-thing, obviously, and I was granted access to the lab for the first time.  Now,” John swayed a bit.  Maybe he was a little further gone than he’d thought.  He blinked a couple times before continuing.  “That was when I met Carson and I learned about the Ancients and their technology before I ever even heard the word Stargate.  The idea of certain people having some special DNA was so crazy to me, I figured no way I’d have it, so I thought what the hell and sat down.

“Never imagined how my life would change thanks to that one careless act.  Rodney, of course, was fascinated and spent a couple days trying to convince me that it was worth it to go to Atlantis—get to travel to another galaxy; explore new planets; play with alien technology; a new start where no one knew you; etc.”  John grinned and said, “I flipped a coin anyway.”

Everyone laughed and he turned to Rodney.  “Our first week out here did not go well, did it?”  Rodney shook his head, smiling.  “The city was sinking, we had no clue why; we were trying to find a place to go before we drowned; _space vampires_ were apparently a very real thing and wanted to eat us.  Energy clouds, crazy technology, you nearly died, I nearly died, I wound up in charge of the military.  And somewhere, in all of that, you became my best friend.”  Rodney’s expression softened.  John swallowed against the tightness in his throat, feeling sad, like the end of an era, but continued, “Rodney, you are annoying on the best day”—a smattering of laughter from the crowd—“but you are also crazy smart and half the time I can’t understand you.  I mean, I’m just a flyboy.”

“Lies!” Rodney called good-naturedly, cupping a hand around his mouth as everyone laughed.

John smiled again and said, “You are loyal, brave, and have saved my ass more times than I care to admit.  Keller,” he grimaced.  He should use her name at least once.  “Jennifer.  You’re getting the best, most amazing man I know.  So . . . congrats.”  He lifted his glass to the applause and drank a good amount.  Rodney and Keller kissed and maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the end of an era thought, or maybe it was just that he was damn sick of seeing them kiss, something shifted inside John, making him blurt out what he’d kept locked inside for years, “And I kinda hate you for it.”

Horrified looks from everyone in the room but John was only looking at Rodney.  Who was looking back at him in stunned surprise.  “You don’t accept him.  You’re always trying to change him.  You don’t deserve him.”  His voice had gone bitter but he didn’t give a shit.  “It should be me up there.  I know I should be happy and all but I’m not.  I’m really not.  Rodney, I’ve been in love with you ever since I watched you walk into an energy storm and save all of us by throwing the naquadah generator through the ‘gate.  But I guess it wasn’t meant to be.”  John sighed, raised his glass and finished up with, “Anyway, congratulations, you two.”  And he drained the wine glass, totally oblivious to the reactions in the room.

Ronon and Lorne came up to him, each one wordlessly grabbing an arm, and dragged him off the dais and out into the hall.  He struggled a bit but his head felt muzzy so in the end, he just let them take him.  They deposited him on a balcony, Lorne suggesting, “Stay out here for a bit, sir.  Hopefully the fresh air will help you regain your senses.”

Regain my senses? John thought, leaning on the railing.  His senses were fine.  A little fuzzy around the edges, but he was feeling pretty damn great.  Whiskey was a wonderful invention.  Add moonshine and wine and he was feeling fucking fantastic.  And it was a pretty night, the moons reflecting off the ocean.

He heard Teyla dismiss the guys.  “Thank you, Ronon, Major.  I will take it from here.”

John turned his head, saw her disapproving frown and blinked.  What did he do this time?  Then it hit him, his speech, and he groaned.  Dropping his head onto the railing, he moaned, “Oh god, what did I do?”

She put a hand on his back but it wasn’t her voice he heard next.

“Yeah, I’d like to know that too.”

John squeezed his eyes shut.  He knew that voice, he would always know that voice.  It was Rodney.  _Fuuuuccckk_.  He heard footsteps and wished that he were sober enough to have this conversation.  Although maybe being drunk worked in his favor.  Maybe Rodney would cut him some slack and forget all about it.

Teyla said, “If the two of you promise to behave, I will be back with something to mitigate the effects of the alcohol, John.”

John simply grunted, refusing to lift his head.  Hearing her leave, he prayed Rodney left with her, but of course his luck was never that good.  And if Teyla brought back some of her tea, there went his excuse of being drunk.

“What the hell was that?” Rodney demanded.

John reluctantly raised his head and tried to brush it off.  “What’re you doin’ out here?  Shouldn’t you be wit’ Keller?”

Rodney came up to stand next to him, hands propped on his hips and a bewildered look on his face.  His voice got higher as he retorted, “Yes, John, I should be inside with my wife but instead, I’m out here on a balcony wondering why the hell my best friend decided to get drunk at my wedding and tell me I should have married him, so I’ll repeat—what the _hell_ , Sheppard?!”

John leaned a bit more on the railing and shrugged.  Well, guess he wasn’t going to let it go.  And honestly, John felt better for finally having said it.  “’s the truth.”

Rodney blinked.  Repeated, “It’s the truth?  What are you talking about?”

John felt angry all of a sudden and snapped, “You know damn well what I’m talking about, McKay!”

Rodney retorted, “Clearly I don’t so why don’t you enlighten me as to why the hell you thought now was the best time to drop that on me.”

John scowled at him or tried to.  It was kind of hard to force his face to hold any sort of expression and then he realized he wasn’t angry anymore.  He was simply tired.  “Not like there’s a good time to say it.”

Rodney rolled his eyes.  “Before the vows would have been a good time.”  Why did it matter?  When John just shrugged, Rodney threw his hands in the air, walked a few paces away then came back and demanded, “Are you only able to be honest with your feelings when you’re drunk?”

John jerked back, snapping, “I’m not drunk!”  He didn’t even notice that he hadn’t denied the honesty part of the question—which was rather accurate.

Rodney scoffed, “Oh please.  You think I don’t see how flushed you are right now?  Or the fact that the only reason you’re still on your feet is the death grip you’ve got on the railing?  John, you are the most emotionally constipated man I know and getting you to admit to even having feelings is like pulling teeth which is why I’m leaning towards believing you’re actually serious about being in love with me.”  His voice softened, “Which again begs the question of why?  Why now, John?”

Teyla returned at that moment, saving John from coming up with an answer.  She glanced concernedly between them as she handed John a steaming mug and ordered, “Drink.  You will feel better.” 

He doubted it, but John obediently drank the strong Athosian tea, feeling his mind start to clear.  He felt more in control of his body as the fuzziness from the alcohol faded.  But as it did so, John started to realize the extent of what he’d done and guilt instantly set in.  He took the one day that Rodney should have been the happiest he’s ever been and ruined it by being a selfish asshole.  Handing the now-empty mug back to Teyla, he ran a shaky hand through his hair, resting it on the back of his neck.  Shit shit shit.  What had he done?  How could he have been so careless?  He swore fervently in his mind, frantically trying to figure out how to fix things.  Forcing himself to meet Rodney’s gaze, John apologized.  “Rodney, fuck, I am sorry.  I am so sorry.  I never should have . . . I’ll go apologize to Keller and I—I totally understand if you hate me right now.”

Rodney’s shoulders slumped as he sighed heavily.  He studied John intently for a couple moments then asked quietly, “Did you mean it?”

John didn’t have to ask what he meant.  Teyla slipped away, leaving them alone on the balcony.  Reluctantly, John owned up to it, because what would be the point in lying now?  “Yes.”

“You’re in love with me.”

“.......yes.”

Rodney hummed thoughtfully, still studying him.  With a nod, Rodney said, “I had a feeling and honestly, everything makes sense now.  The way you’ve been acting ever since Jennifer and I got together, how you put distance between us.  But I don’t think I ever truly noticed the effect on you until I proposed—I saw your face when I brought up the ring.  You weren’t happy for me, though you tried to be.  You were helpful and supportive, like a best friend is supposed to be, so I just filed the anomaly away and moved on because I liked what we had.  I didn’t want to lose you because I read things wrong.”

Rodney didn’t want to lose him?  What did that mean?  They’d still be friends.  Or maybe they wouldn’t now that John had to go and open his big mouth.  Or maybe Rodney was going to move to Earth.  Deciding not to think about that, John nodded.  “It’s why I never said anything.  Well, at least, after DADT was repealed.  I didn’t want to throw a wrench into what you and Keller had.  You deserved to be happy and just because I wanted you was no reason to ruin your happiness.  Plus I couldn’t tell if you were interested or not.”

Rodney shook his head and let out a short bitter laugh.  “God, we’re hopeless, aren’t we?”

“Apparently.”  Why was Rodney hopeless?  It was just John's stupid crush, but he cautiously hoped that they could put this behind them.  He tilted his head towards the door.  “So, listen.  Go on back to the reception.  I’m gonna head to my room, sleep things off.  I’ll apologize to Keller in the morning and we’ll just go back to the way things were.”

Rodney frowned at him and stepped closer.  “What if I don’t want things to go back to the way they were?”

John’s brow furrowed.  “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’re an idiot.”  Rodney leaned forward and kissed him, just a light press of his lips against John’s.

John froze, his arms dropping to his sides, eyes wide in shock.  Holy shit.  _Holy shit_.  Rodney McKay was kissing him.  John was afraid to move, afraid that anything he did would break the spell because right now, oh god, was this really happening?  Rodney wrapped a hand loosely around his neck, as if holding him in place, but it wasn’t necessary.  He wasn’t going anywhere.  Right now, John was getting what he’d wanted, no, _craved_ , for so long.

Rodney pulled back, studied him closely.  Whatever he saw in John’s expression must have been what he’d wanted because he leaned back in.  This time, John met him partway, pressing their mouths together firmly, closing his eyes to better savor the feeling, the taste.  God, it was heady, kissing Rodney.

He wanted to touch.  He _needed_ to touch so John reached out and tentatively rested his left hand on Rodney’s arm.  Rodney tilted his head, deepening the kiss a bit.  Taking that as encouragement, John shifted closer, running his hand cautiously up Rodney’s arm, still afraid that he was dreaming, that this was going to end before too much longer and Rodney was going to regret it, was going to hate him.

Gripping the railing tight with his right hand, John slid his left across Rodney’s shoulder and down his back to tug him closer, making a needy noise deep in his throat.  He felt like he was on fire where their bodies came into contact.  Rodney closed the remaining distance willingly, wrapped both arms around John’s waist, pressing their bodies tight together, and teased John’s lips apart.  The minute Rodney’s tongue touched his, John let out a low moan, tightening his grip on Rodney.

“What are you doing?!”  A screeching voice forced them apart.

Breathing hard, feeling like he’d just run several miles while simultaneously being chased by Wraith, John looked over to see who had just interrupted the best kiss he’d ever had in his life.  Jennifer Keller stood in the doorway, in her wedding dress, looking furious.  Her mouth was open and anger and hurt mingled in her gaze.  Guilt set in and John immediately took several more steps away from Rodney, put his hands up, and said quickly, “I’m sorry, Keller.  I’m so sorry for what I said earlier.  I shouldn’t have said anything.”

She didn’t even look at him, her flashing eyes locked on Rodney.

Rodney, for his part, threw John a frown before turning to Keller.  “Jennifer, I can explain.”

“Explain?” she said disbelievingly and threw John a glare, acknowledging him for the first time.  “I just walked in on you kissing John Sheppard on our wedding night.  What explanation could you possibly have for that?”

Rodney’s mouth opened and closed, clearly scrambling for a reason.  John tried to melt into the background—he did not want to get in between them anymore than he already had.  Besides, he’d gotten to kiss Rodney.  That was more than he ever thought he’d get.  “Look,” Rodney started, his hands waving, “it’s—it’s not—we—I—”

“It’s my fault,” John jumped in.  They both turned to look at him, Rodney’s eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Your fault,” she repeated, her voice flat.

“Yes.”

“So you initiated the kiss?”

“Ah,” John winced.  “That’s . . . ah, well, you see—”

Rodney interjected, “I kissed him first.”

John scrubbed his face with his hands.  This was really not how he’d expected the night to go.  By this point, he’d planned to be on his way to Teyla’s where he would get even more shitfaced and pass out on her couch.  He had not planned on kissing Rodney and being interrogated about it by Keller.

John risked a glance at her.  The anger and hurt had disappeared, replaced by—resignation?

Keller shook her head.  “I really should have seen this coming.  I tried and tried to ignore the obvious connection the two of you have, thought I could overcome it.  You know he’s going to kill himself one day soon, right, Rodney?  The amount of times he’s spent in my infirmary, the lack of regard for his own life—I always figured he’d cause something horrible to happen to you.  It’s partially why I wanted us to move back to Earth, to be safer.  When you proposed, Rodney, I was so happy because I thought that it meant you had finally given up on him; that you had dealt with your feelings for him and you were committing yourself to me completely.  But of course,” she shook her head despairingly, “how could I ever think I could compete with the great John Sheppard?”

Rodney’s mouth was hanging open while she spoke but now he asked, “When was there a competition?”

John had started to slide along the wall during Keller’s speech, hoping to escape without being noticed, and absently noted that not only had Keller intimated that Rodney had feelings for him that apparently went beyond friendship but that Rodney hadn’t denied them.  So the kiss hadn’t been a—a platitude or result of alcohol or something?

Rodney looked over at him, frowning, and he stopped moving.  Shit.  Caught in the middle, literally and emotionally.  Rodney’s gaze flicked between the two of them then lit with sudden understanding.  Sounding surprised, he said, “Wait, seriously?  You two were fighting over me and I had no clue?”

Uh . . . John glanced at Keller, hoping for a hint as to what to do.  Her arms were crossed over the bodice of her wedding dress—and gee, what a wonderful reminder of the mess John had inadvertently created.  When it didn’t look like she was going to respond, John turned to Rodney, rubbed his neck and said sheepishly, “I wouldn’t say _competing_ , exactly . . . but I guess?  Kinda?  I never meant to hurt you, Rodney.”  Guiltily, he turned back to her and added, “Either of you.”

She scowled at him but she didn’t seem as pissed as she had earlier.

Rodney ran his hands over his face, paced the length of the balcony.  John flicked his gaze to the door, wondering if he could slip through it.  “Okay,” Rodney said abruptly, drawing his attention.  “So what are we going to do?”

As much as John wanted Rodney, he was married.  They’d gone through with it and he wasn’t that much of an asshole to demand they end things so he could be with Rodney.  “You two are going back to your reception.  I am going to head to bed, hopefully avoid everyone, and when we get up in the morning, we’ll pretend it was just a drunk prank that went wrong and move on.”  John was an expert at denying himself what he really wanted so this was nothing.  Just another wall to keep up, no big deal.  His heart wasn’t breaking at the thought, not even a little bit.

He could see Keller nodding, but Rodney was glowering at him again.  Rodney said quietly, “What if I don’t want to pretend it didn’t happen?”

There he went again, giving John hope.  John shook his head as that faint bit of hope dawned bright and painful in his chest.  Ruthlessly squashing it back down, he said softly, “You’re married, Rodney.  It’s okay.  I told you, I don’t want to ruin things.”

“What about what _I_ want?” Rodney asked, his voice cracking, and John had to bite his tongue to keep from reaching out to him.

He never meant for any of this to happen.  Never meant to force Rodney to choose.

Keller spoke, “Might I offer an opinion?”

He bit his tongue harder in an effort to keep from snapping _no_.  He knew what she was gonna say.  She’d tell John, in no uncertain terms, to basically fuck off and leave her husband alone—and ouch, that phrase hurt.

Rodney turned to her, hope in his expression, clearly thinking she had the answer he wanted.  John started to shift towards the door again because he really did not want to see them kiss again because there was no doubt in John’s mind where this was going and it did not involve him.  He couldn’t see that, not when he could still feel Rodney’s mouth against his, Rodney’s body pressed against his.  He put his fingers to his lips and turned away.  At least he finally knew what it felt like to kiss Rodney.  It altered his entire world in a few seconds.

Sounding resigned, Keller said, “Look, I’ve fought to be the main focus of your affections, Rodney, and I see now that I never was and I never will be.  Clearly this whole thing was a mistake.  I mean,” she laughed a little brittlely, “you kissed him, and with more passion than you’ve ever kissed me.”

_Not listening, not listening_ , John thought firmly.  He was almost to the doorway. Almost to escape.

Keller muttered, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, only hours after we signed the papers.”  A pause.  “I’ll file for an annulment.”

John stopped, his mouth dropping open as he turned to stare at her. 

Rodney squeaked out, “What?”

She crossed the balcony to stand in front of Rodney, put a hand on his arm, and said gently, “Rodney, I know you love me, but you don’t love me nearly as much as you love John and we all know it.  I think it’s time I stopped trying to come between you two and go find my own soul mate.”

Rodney’s mouth opened and closed several times, then he looked over Keller’s shoulder to where John stood in the doorway. 

She said again, “We’ll annul the marriage, Rodney.  I’ll take the position at the SGC and you and John can . . .” her voice shook slightly, “be . . . together.  Like you want.  Like you deserve.”

Rodney asked quietly, “Are you going to be okay?”

Holy shit, John realized that Rodney wasn’t arguing against it.  John crossed his arms tight across his chest, hoping that neither of them could hear how loud his heart was suddenly pounding against his rib cage.  The hope he kept trying to extinguish defiantly flared to life again.  Keller nodded, leaned forward to kiss Rodney briefly on the lips—John made a face and averted his gaze.  Then she said, “I’ll make excuses for you,” and turned to leave, grabbing her skirts so she didn’t trip.  She did stop next to John on the way out and said in a low tone, “You win.”

He replied, “I was fine with how things were, for the record.”

Her mouth twisted.  “If you were, I would not be heading back to my wedding reception alone and leaving my soon to be ex-husband here with you.”

John met her gaze for the first time and said with total sincerity, “I never meant to hurt you, even if I didn’t want you with Rodney.”

Keller nodded.  “At least you’re being honest now.”  She paused then added, “This is your shot, Sheppard.  Don’t blow it.”  Then she was gone, leaving the two of them standing on opposite sides of the balcony, staring silently at each other.

John fought not to fidget, unsure what to do or say, and waited for Rodney to make a move.

Rodney was frowning again, either at John or at the situation, John wasn’t sure, and then he said sarcastically, “Well this has been a fun day all around, hasn’t it?”

John smiled weakly.

Rodney pointed a finger at him, stepping closer.  “You are damn good at hiding how you feel, you know that?  I mean, I had my suspicions over the years, but then you never took advantage of any of the opportunities I gave you or you said or did something that made me think it didn’t mean anything, that you weren’t flirting with me.  So I just figured that my feelings were one-sided, which is partially why I asked Jennifer out, by the way.  To give myself something to focus on instead of you.  Oh god, don’t tell her that.”

John felt his mouth open a bit.  “Opportunities?  What opportunities?  And by the way, ever heard of a little thing called Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell?”

Rodney scoffed, moving a little closer.  John swallowed, still locked in place.  “Oh, come on, like anyone here would have turned you in if they found out you were gay.  The entire military contingent would follow you into hell if you asked them to.  And there were plenty of opportunities, just ask Zelenka or Lorne or Teyla or Ronon.  Hell, ask Sam!”

It was John’s turn to frown.  He decided that was something to think on later, when he wasn’t being faced with what felt like the decision of a lifetime.  “I couldn’t take the risk, Rodney, you know that.  One moment in front of the wrong person and I’d lose everything.”

Rodney huffed, then nodded, reluctantly conceding the point.  “Well, what about after it was repealed?  Why didn’t you say anything then?”

John finally moved, throwing a hand towards the hall, and said, “Um, hello?  You were dating Keller!  She already hated me because I refused to listen to her so-called medical advice—”

“You had a gaping hole in your side!  You should have stayed in the infirmary!” Rodney interrupted him.

John retorted, “My team was in danger!  What else was I going to do?”

Rodney scowled.  “Okay, look, we are not discussing your worrying disregard for your own life right now.  We are discussing the fact that you had ample time over the _years_ to tell me you were in love with me and you chose to do it on the night I got married.  Are you that bad at social interactions?”

John sighed heavily and leaned against the doorjamb, shoving his hands in his pockets.  He wished he’d taken his uniform jacket off before his speech.  It was uncomfortable.  “I mean, yeah?  You know I’m no good with my own feelings, let alone trying to figure out someone else’s.”

Rodney nodded and stepped closer.  “Okay.  So we’ve agreed on the fact that you’re an idiot and I clearly should have been more obvious about my feelings for you.  The question now is—do you actually want to give this a shot?”

John stared at him.  “Rodney . . .” he started but trailed off because he had no idea where he was going with that sentence.

Rodney slowly closed the distance between them, deftly maneuvering John so his back was facing the wall instead of the hallway.  “While I’m sure we’ll still have things to discuss, we have established three rather important facts as of right now.” 

Rodney took a step forward.  “One,” he set the point of a finger on John’s chest, gently pushing, “you are in love with me.”

A second finger pushed him back another step.  “Two,” Rodney continued easily, “I am in love with you.”

John’s mouth went dry as his back hit the wall.  A third finger joined the others.  “Three,” Rodney finished, “I won’t be married to Jennifer in a few hours.”

Rodney stopped with less than a foot of space between them.  John’s heart was racing.  His tongue darted out to wet his dry lips and watched Rodney’s gaze drop down then back up.  His eyes were insanely blue.  John felt desire begin to coil in his lower belly, saw it reflected in Rodney’s steady heated gaze.

He had to make sure, though.  Had to know.

“You—you can still go back,” John forced himself to say, hearing his voice shake and hating himself for it.  “You can still have your happily ever after with Keller.”

Rodney shook his head, his gaze never leaving John’s.  “If I did that, I’d be lying to myself, to Jennifer . . . to you.  And that’s not something I am willing to do, not anymore, not now that I know the truth.  I’m choosing a happily ever after with you, John, no matter how many years we get.  What will you choose?”

Hope and challenge mingled with the heat in Rodney’s gaze, as if daring John to take the leap.  All of the risks, all of the crazy near-death experiences over the past decade, and none of them scared him as much as the risk standing right in front of him.

Maybe . . . maybe it was okay to want something, to get something he wanted.  Even if one of them would almost surely regret it in the morning, this was a risk John needed to take, if only to be able to move on.  He needed to stop being a coward.  John reached up, took Rodney’s face in both hands, then leaned in and pressed a light kiss to Rodney’s mouth.

When he pulled back, Rodney gave him a questioning look.  “I’m choosing you,” John said softly.

Rodney’s whole face lit up and then they were kissing again.  The wall was a solid support against John’s back that he was immensely grateful for because Rodney’s touches made him weak in the knees.  Rodney abandoned John’s mouth to press his lips to John’s neck, to his jawline, then back to his mouth, simultaneously running his hands up John’s back and chest, over his dress shirt, trailing fire.  John felt like a teenager, like this was his first kiss and he had no idea what to do with his hands.  He pressed them against Rodney’s back, running them up and down his spine, gasping when Rodney’s mouth found the sensitive spot in the middle of his collarbone.  He held Rodney tight as time lost all meaning.

Rodney shifted, separating their bodies a bit, and started undoing the buttons on John’s dress shirt as they kissed.  John broke the kiss off and asked breathily, “You sure ‘bout this?  ‘Cause in a few minutes, there’s no going back.”

Rodney met his gaze and John’s doubts evaporated at the sight of Rodney’s flushed face.  Rodney wanted him.  Rodney kissed him and answered, “More sure than I’ve been of anything in the past ten years.  I’ve wanted you for so long, there is no way in hell that I’m turning back.”  He paused, a flash of insecurity crossing his face.  “Unless . . . are you . . . do you want me to stop?”

John grinned, feeling relieved, and hauled Rodney back into a kiss.  When they came up for air, John said, “No take backs.”

“God, you are such a child sometimes,” Rodney replied with an eye roll but grinned back at him.  He undid another button and John reached up to loosen his uniform tie, feeling hot under the collar, while Rodney yanked John’s shirt out of his pants.  John reached up to tug on Rodney’s bow tie, undid the top button of Rodney’s shirt, and then gasped as Rodney’s hands flattened against the bare skin of his stomach.

“Christ,” John breathed.  Rodney shot him a smug look and kissed him.  John rapidly undid all of Rodney’s shirt buttons and managed one of the most coordinated moves of his life.  John spun them so that Rodney’s back was to the wall and their bare chests were pressed together.

Desire and heat engulfed him as Rodney made a low needy sound in the back of his throat.  He could hear his heart pounding, hear his panting breaths as their kisses got sloppier and then Rodney rocked his hips, grinding against John’s groin.  John groaned, dropping his head onto Rodney’s shoulder. 

“Your place or mine?” Rodney managed to ask, his breath ghosting across the back of John’s sweaty neck, making him shiver.  Rodney pressed his lips to the spot, adding tingles to the shiver.

John pulled back, scrambling for any semblance of self-control.  He swallowed hard.  “Mine,” John rasped.  He didn’t need any sort of reminders that he’d almost not had this.

Rodney grabbed his hand and dragged him into the hall.  John was rather unclear as to how, exactly, they made it to his room but then his door was opening and Rodney was yanking John’s jacket down his arms, pulling his shirt off with it.  Rodney stopped at that point and stared.

“What’s wrong?” John asked, feeling the beginnings of panic, wondering if this was it, if this was the line that Rodney wouldn’t cross and things would be over before they really got started.

Rodney blinked, yanked his gaze up, and said, “It’s not the first time I’ve seen you shirtless so how can it possibly have this much of an effect?”

John huffed a relieved laugh, reached out to snag Rodney’s wrist and drew him close.  “That might have something to do with the fact that I’m typically covered in blood when I’m shirtless, McKay.”

Rodney’s frown pressed into his neck.  “Oh, so I’m McKay, again?”

John smiled, nipped his earlobe, and said in a low voice, “Rodney.”

Rodney shuddered then pulled back to smack him lightly in the chest.  “Stop that.”

“Stop what?” John bit his ear again, grinning when Rodney shuddered again.  “This?”

“Yes, that.”

“Mmm, no I don’t think I will.  I rather like your reaction when I do that.”

Rodney slid out of his hold and took his shirt off.  It was John’s turn to stare.  He’d had far fewer opportunities to see Rodney shirtless.  His hand reached out almost of its own accord and he ran his fingertips lightly down Rodney’s chest, watching his stomach contract with Rodney’s sudden intake of breath.  Mesmerized, John stepped closer, bringing his other hand up so he could brush a thumb across each of Rodney’s nipples.

The sound that Rodney made went right to John’s cock.  “ _John_ ,” Rodney growled and reached out to undo John’s belt.  Their mouths met again and it was easy to step out of his dress shoes and socks, to let his uniform pants drop to the floor.  He fumbled with the fastenings of Rodney’s dress pants but finally they were both down to their underwear.

John walked Rodney backwards to his bed, straddling him as Rodney sat down.  He nipped at Rodney’s earlobe again, feeling his whole body shudder.  He rolled his hips, feeling their cocks brush beneath the thin fabric.

Rodney’s fingers pressed into his back, ran down his spine, and then dipped into the waistband of his boxers.  John inhaled sharply.  Rodney tugged purposefully at the elastic.  John put his hands on Rodney’s chest and pushed until Rodney was on his back.  Then John climbed off him, shimmied out of his boxers, then reached out and yanked Rodney’s off.

He had to stop and stare again because holy shit this was happening.  This was actually happening.

What if it was just a drunken hallucination or dream, though?  What if John was actually passed out in Teyla’s room like he’d originally planned and Rodney was off celebrating with Keller?

“John.”

Startled, John lifted his gaze.  Rodney was sitting up and studying him.  “This is real, John.”  He cupped John’s cheek and leaned forward to kiss him gently.  “Not a dream.  Not the result of some weird tech.  I am here with you, right now.”

“How—?”

“I know you,” Rodney said simply.  “Now get over here and let me kiss you.”

John let Rodney manhandle him, maneuvering their bodies until Rodney was on top.  Fine by him, he had a great view.  Rodney played with his nipples, leaning down to nip at one and smiling smugly when John’s back arched.  John let his hands wander aimlessly, just wanting to touch, and feeling the muscles in Rodney’s chest—he had a freaking six-pack under that suit!  All of those off world missions had done wonders for Rodney’s physique.  He wondered if that was how Rodney managed to move him so easily.  His thoughts kept getting derailed, though, by what Rodney was doing.  He’d never thought he was that sensitive.

And then Rodney’s hand wrapped around his cock and John stopped thinking.

Rodney asked, “You got any lube?”

John blinked up at him.  “Uhhh,” he floundered, trying to force his brain to work again.  Rodney chuckled and John flung a hand in the general direction of his nightstand.  Rodney climbed off him to pull the drawers open, searching.

John felt cold without his warm weight but Rodney was back in a minute, pressing a kiss to his lips.  “I’m going to make you feel so good,” Rodney murmured.

Rodney squirted lube into his hand, set the tube aside, and took hold of John’s cock again.  He stroked it slowly at first then faster, watching John for his reaction.  “Harder,” John grunted, feeling his orgasm start to build.  “Yes, yes, that, _exactly_ like tha . . . oh god, yes.”

His breaths came out in short bursts, he felt hot all over, his body tensing as the pressure built and built and then Rodney wrapped his hand around both of them.  Feeling Rodney’s cock next to his sent him over the edge.  His back arched and he cried Rodney’s name as he came.

He had barely slumped back onto the bed when Rodney had his own orgasm.  Rodney slumped forward, landing next to John, and they lay there together for a couple minutes.  Then John leaned over to kiss him before getting up to find something to clean them off with.  He returned with a towel from the bathroom, wiped them both off, then tossed the cloth onto the floor.

Rodney pulled the covers down and slid under them.  After a moment of indecision—he was still waiting for the other shoe to fall—John followed suit.

“Rodney,” he started hesitantly.

Rodney kissed him, looked him in the eyes and said firmly, “You are not dreaming.  We are not thinking.  We are sleeping.”

John had to smile.  “Okay,” he gave in and couldn’t resist one more kiss before rolling onto his side and thinking the lights off.

Rodney threw an arm over his waist, tugged him back until their bodies were pressed together, John’s back to Rodney’s chest.  John felt his face heat—he was not a cuddler by nature and he hadn’t thought Rodney was, either.

“No thinking,” Rodney said again, his voice cracking into a yawn.  He pressed his face into the back of John’s neck.  “Sleep.”

Sleep sounded fantastic right about now, considering he hadn’t really gotten much over the past couple weeks.  John let his eyes slide shut.

Just before he drifted off completely, he heard Rodney murmur, “Love you, John,” then the oblivion of sleep overtook him.


	4. Chapter Four

John woke slowly, squinting against the sun that was trying to shine through the tinted windows so he assumed it was morning.  His radio hadn’t sounded, he had no meetings today, Torren hadn’t woken him up, his normal morning run with Ronon had been cancelled days before . . . no reason to get up.  John intended to enjoy the rare moment of laziness.  After a couple minutes, he started to get up and felt something against his back.  He froze.  In that same instant, he realized he was naked under the covers.

Feeling incredibly confused, John shifted, planning to turn and look, but an arm that he hadn’t noticed was draped loosely across his waist tightened.  A sleepy voice mumbled, “Don’ move.  Stay.”

John grinned in delight.  That was _Rodney’s_ sleepy voice!  He let his head drop back onto the pillow.  It wasn’t a dream!  He really did get to kiss Rodney and, if he was naked, then the sex he remembered really had happened.  He twisted so he could face Rodney—keeping Rodney’s arm around his waist—and said softly, “So . . . that happened.  Right?”

Opening his eyes, Rodney made a sound of agreement.  “Yes, it did.”

“Cool.  But, uh—”

Rodney interrupted him before he could go any further, “No, I do not regret it in the slightest.  No, I do not hate you.  Yes, I do still love you.  Are you satisfied now?”

John leaned forward and kissed him, morning breath be damned.  “Working on it.”

Rodney asked, “What is that supposed to mean?  Was it not good for you?”

John hurriedly reassured him, “No, no, it was—it was definitely good for me.  Was it—?”

“Me, too.”  Rodney’s expression softened.  “So what is it?”

John rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling.  “Everything’s . . . great.  Until we walk out that door and then we— _I_ —have to deal with the repercussions of last night.  I outed myself in front of my entire command.  I ruined a wedding.”  He added silently, _now I find out if I really can trust the people who serve under me; if they’ll turn me in or not._

Rodney hummed, sighed lightly, and then said, “Well, it wouldn’t be the first time rumors or bad opinions about me have spread through my workplace and I survived it.  I can survive this.  We can survive this.”

John sat up abruptly, ignoring the pull of Rodney’s arm to stay down and ran a hand over his face.  Fuck.  The covers pooled at his waist and he brought his knees up to rest his arms on them.  He dropped his head into his hands and spoke into them.  “You say that but you’re a civilian.  I’m military.  Worse, I’m the commanding officer of a military base in the middle of a war zone, and still very much subject to the regs of the USAF.”

Rodney sat up, leaning over to rest his chin on John’s shoulder.  Despite his racing heart, John found himself leaning into it, taking a small measure of comfort from the touch.  “DADT was repealed years ago, John.  I don’t think the USAF is going to be enforcing anything that has to do with your orientation or who you choose to sleep with.  Besides, Lanteans are a much more enlightened group of people than those assholes you used to work for.  Don’t worry so much.”  Rodney pressed a kiss to John’s shoulder and added softly, “And if they do try something, they’ll have to deal with me and you know how I deal with people who cross me.”

John’s lips twitched, wanting to smile at the menacing promise in Rodney’s words, but he just couldn’t.  Not yet.  He sighed again.  Fuck, he never should have agreed to be the best man; that was when this whole mess started.  When he started losing control over his, well, over his control.

But then he wouldn’t have Rodney in his bed, slowly rubbing comforting circles on his back.  John looked over at him.  Was it worth it?

“I know what you’re thinking.  Stop.”

John huffed a laugh.  “Oh, really?  So what am I thinking, McKay?”

“That you wish you’d never said anything.  And I know you well enough to know that right now you’re trying to decide if the right thing is to end this before it goes any farther or take the leap and let yourself have something you wanted because you’re a good man who deserves to be happy but you’re also scarily good at self-sacrifice, to a fault.”

Mouth hanging open, John simply stared because that was so on point.  How the hell did Rodney know him that well?  How could he have let anyone so close as to know him that well?  It was scary . . . but he kind of liked it.  He’d always liked that Rodney called him on his bullshit, could tell when he was hiding something.  As much as John liked hiding behind his mask, he’d always wanted someone to push past that smirk, that attitude, and find _him_.

And Rodney did.

“What do you think I should do?”

Rodney immediately answered, “Take the leap.  But then, that’s me being selfish because I finally have you.  And you and I both know you are nearly physically incapable of being selfish so for once in your life, John, _take_ something for yourself!”

John swallowed hard, not just at the words, but at hearing Rodney’s voice catch.  Again, Rodney hit the nail on the head.  John had become an expert at denying his desires in favor of helping others get theirs; a fault that had led him to risk his life constantly in an attempt to keep his team—his family—and his people safe.  Rodney remained silent, a comforting warm presence against his side, as John thought.  John closed his eyes, thinking furiously.  He wanted Rodney, so much.  But could he?  He remembered how he’d felt last night, when he’d thought he could be with Rodney.  Remembered the horrible wrenching feeling when he was almost positive Keller was going to take it away from him.

How he’d felt when Rodney had said he was in love with John.

Maybe . . . . . maybe just this once, he could have something—some _one_ —he wanted and the universe wouldn’t throw it back in his face or take it away just when he was becoming content.  Maybe karma would be on his side and take pity on him this time.

Repercussions.  What would happen if they went through with this?

Okay, think positive.  If he wasn’t immediately reviled, if the Air Force or the SGC didn’t know or didn’t care . . . . John could have everything.  Atlantis.  Flying.  His military commission.  Friends, family.  Rodney.

There would undoubtedly be a few who would refuse to serve under a gay commanding officer, but that could only be good in the long run, right?  Atlantis was far more accepting of strange things than most bases, it’s basically a requirement out here.

It was possible.

“Okay,” John said softly.  “Okay.”

Rodney asked, “Okay . . . what?”

John turned to him.  “I want this.  I want you.  Whatever the consequences, I want to be with you as long as you’ll put up with me.”

Rodney grinned, his eyes lighting up and John got lost in them for a moment.  Then Rodney kissed him, his hands reaching out to pull John close.  When their bodies touched, John pushed Rodney onto his back, straddling him.  Rodney lay without a fight, staring up at John with complete trust, and it took John’s breath away.

No one ever trusted him completely.  No one but Rodney.  Rodney had put his full trust in John years ago and John had returned the trust.  No matter what happened, they always came through for each other. 

Bending down to kiss him, John murmured, “We’re gonna do things a little more slowly this time.”

“Yes, John.  Yes, to whatever you want, the answer is always yes.”

John kissed him again.

* * *

By the time they managed to extract themselves from John’s bed, breakfast was in full swing.  John mentally swore as he jerked to a stop in the entrance to the mess, staring at the majority of Atlantis’ personnel occupying the tables.  He’d been hoping for a more . . . subtle announcement of their change in status.  And the longer he stood frozen in the doorway, the more people started to notice his presence and turn to look.

He felt his muscles tense, his back straightening, his face settling into the usual mask of indifference/neutrality he’d perfected after years under CO’s who hated him, only to flinch when Rodney slipped a hand into his and squeezed.  John threw him a slightly panicked look but Rodney moved purposefully towards the breakfast line, tugging John along with him, clearly ignoring the stares and awkwardness that accompanied their progress.

“Rodney,” John hissed.

Rodney grabbed a tray and shoved it at John.  He muttered, “Ignore them.”  He grabbed his own tray and started down the line.

Feeling more than a little panicked, John hissed, “Half of them are military and some are from the Daedalus, Rodney!”

Rodney snagged a banana muffin.  “I told you, don’t worry about it.”

“Easy for you to say,” John ignored the muffins.

“These people would follow you into hell, John, and most of them already have.  I highly doubt the fact that you and I are in a relationship will change that.  Right now, it’s new and it’s salacious and it’ll be the main focus of the gossip mill for a few weeks and then things will go back to normal.”

“God, I hope so,” John muttered, scooping scrambled eggs onto a plate.  He wasn’t sure he’d be able to eat all that much, the way his stomach felt.

Rodney dropped a few slices of bacon onto both their trays and moved down to pour two cups of coffee.  Setting one on John’s tray, Rodney grabbed silverware for himself and walked away.  John grabbed a fork and followed Rodney to their usual table where Teyla was sitting with Torren, finishing up their own breakfast.

The stares followed and John fought not to twitch at the feel of all those eyes on him.  He hated attention, much preferred to stay in the background.

Torren scowled at them as they sat.  “You didn’t come read me a bedtime story, Uncle John!”

John blinked then glared at Rodney as he hastily turned a laugh into a cough.  “Sorry about that, kiddo,” John said.  “I was, uh . . . busy.  And I forgot.”

Torren studied him and again John fought not to flinch under the scrutiny.  The kid looked exactly like his mom when he did that, his gaze all serious and able to see straight through you.  Then the kid smiled.  “That’s okay.  You can take me for a ride in the ‘jumper instead.”

The kid was devious.  “Only if your mom agrees,” John said.

TJ immediately turned to Teyla, held his hands up and pleaded, “ _Pleeeeeaasssse???_ ”

Teyla said calmly, “If you behave, Colonel Sheppard may take you for a brief flight this afternoon.”

“Yay!”

Teyla asked, “Did the two of you sleep well last night?”

Rodney’s fork clattered on the tray.  John felt his face heat and purposely avoided looking at Rodney as he fumbled for his own fork, mumbled, “Yeah.”

They ate in silence for a few minutes, interrupted only when Torren called, “Uncle Evan!  Sit with us!”

John choked on his eggs, causing Rodney to pound on his back until he could breathe again.  He took a swallow of his coffee and warily looked up at his second in command.

Lorne stood at the foot of the table, coffee cup in hand.  “You okay, sir?”

John nodded and said a little hoarsely, “Fine, Major.”  This was it, the moment of truth he’d been both waiting for and dreading—the moment karma fucked him over again.  What would Lorne do?  Rodney’s hand slid onto his thigh under the table, squeezing lightly, reassuringly.  But John couldn’t relax.  Not yet.

Lorne reached over to ruffle Torren’s hair, making him giggle, and said easily, “We were a little worried about you last night, sir, when you didn’t come back to the reception.”

John stuttered, “Ah, well, uh, y—you see . . .”

Lorne tossed him a quick grin.  “But then Teyla said Dr. McKay was with you and everything was okay so we decided not to, uh, _interrupt_ , if you catch my drift, sir.”

John blinked several times.  He’d just realized Lorne had sir-ed him in every sentence . . . on purpose?  He’d been trying to break Lorne of that for a while and thought they’d been making progress, so why would he . . . ?  He felt Rodney press his leg against John’s under the table.  “I, ah . . . thank you?”

Lorne’s grin widened and he looked around before leaning in to say in an undertone, “Forgive me if I’m speaking out of turn, sir, but it’s about damn time the two of you got together, Colonel.  The tension was driving us all nuts.”

John’s mouth dropped fully open.  What?  He heard Rodney make a surprised sound and vaguely wondered what the hell he had to be surprised about but then Lorne straightened, drawing John’s attention back.

Lorne winked.  “I lost the bet, though.  You couldn’t have confessed your feelings _during_ the ceremony, sir?”

Teyla laughed and, oddly enough, that was what allowed John to find his voice.  Relaxing slightly, John replied sarcastically, “Oh, I’m _so_ sorry, Major, that I was unable to schedule my idiocy to fit your timeline.”

“Idiocy?” Rodney asked, arching an eyebrow when John turned to look at him.

“Oh you know what I mean.”

Lorne chuckled and clapped John on the shoulder.  “Congrats, sir, really.  But now I have to go pay Dr. Zelenka.  See you at training.”

As he walked away, John asked Rodney, “What just happened?”

Rodney looked as dumbfounded as John felt.  “I think the base was betting on us.”

“Yeah, I got that.  Were things that obvious?”  John turned to Teyla and asked, “Were we?”

She smiled, amused.  “Sometimes our feelings for others are more obvious to outside observers than to those for whom the feelings are intended.”

Rodney asked, “What does that mean?”

John said, “I think it means yes.”

Teyla laughed again.  “It does, indeed.  But then, my people do not hide our feelings.  Life is too short to keep such things hidden.  Why torture yourself when a Wraith would willingly do it for you? I am happy for you, my friends.”

“Uh huh,” Rodney said skeptically.  He glanced cautiously at John and said, “So, seeing as how your second in command and my second in command were placing bets on when we’d end up in bed together, does this mean I can kiss you in public now or are you going to have another freak out?”

“I did not freak out!”

“You did.  Several times.  And that doesn’t answer my question.”

John rolled his eyes.  It was looking like dating Rodney was going to be the same as being friends with Rodney, with kissing and sex thrown in.  “Keep it PG, McKay.”

Rodney’s eyes narrowed.  “I thought we were done with last names.”

John raised an eyebrow, throwing an arm along the back of his chair.  “I don’t recall agreeing to anything of the sort.  McKay.”

Rodney grabbed the collar of his jacket and yanked him into a kiss that was certainly not PG.  Not even remotely.

When Rodney let him go—looking far too smug, damn him—John was breathless and flushed.  The catcalls and whistles caught his attention and his blush flipped from lust to embarrassment as he reached up to rub the back of his neck.

Grinning widely, Rodney went back to his breakfast.  “I don’t do PG,” he said in an arch tone after taking a bite of bacon.

John narrowed his eyes at him.  As much as he wanted to get Rodney back for that, PDA was still an uncomfortable thing for him.

So John settled for kicking Rodney’s chair just as he lifted his cup to his lips, making him spill.  He returned Rodney’s glare with an innocent look that was spoiled by the grin lifting the corners of his mouth.

“You’re gonna pay for that,” Rodney threatened.

“Ooh, I’m so scared,” John teased.  They stared at each so long that Teyla finally coughed, drawing their attention.

“I am going to drop Torren off with Kanaan.  Lt. Cadman has asked me to train her on the bantos, if there is nothing planned for us today?”

“Nope,” John answered.  “Lorne and I rearranged the mission schedule under the assumption that Rodney would be unable to go off world for a bit.”

“Well, obviously that’s changed,” Rodney interjected.

“A little downtime never killed anyone,” John replied, shooting him a pointed look.

“Oh,” Rodney said, blinking.  He turned pink as he got it.  " _Oh._ "

Teyla stood and said, a laugh in her voice, “I will see you later, John, Rodney.  And congratulations.”

As she and TJ left, John said thoughtfully, “You know, there was a room prepared for you and Keller to stay in after the reception.  You and I didn’t use it.  And I’m pretty sure she didn’t use it.”

Rodney grinned, following his thoughts.  “I propose we each grab a change of clothing and meet there in, say, half an hour?”

John returned the grin.  If the reaction to that one kiss was anything to go by, John’s fears about military retaliation were unfounded.  He still preferred to be discreet but teasing McKay was too much fun.  He stretched, raising his arms over his head so that his shirt rode up his chest.  The sharp intake of breath from Rodney made his grin widen. 

“Make that fifteen,” Rodney said, shoving his chair back.

Oh yeah, too much fun.  Rodney stood and John glanced around—no one was actively watching, so he felt reasonably okay with his next move.  He took Rodney’s hand and tugged, bringing Rodney down to his level.  Just before their lips touched, John murmured, “Don’t forget the lube,” then kissed him.

Letting Rodney straighten, John squeezed his fingers lightly.

Rodney said fondly, “I told you they wouldn’t turn on you.”

“Yeah, well, a couple decades of being told you were less or made wrong because of who you preferred to kiss tends to lead you to the worst possible outcome.”

“Not anymore, John.  Not here.  We’ll protect you from Earth.”  Rodney’s voice was serious and John—finally—believed him.

* * *

 Jeannie nabbed John on his way out of the mess, pulling him into a strangling hug.  She pulled back, but didn't fully let go, keeping her hands on his shoulders as she looked him in the eyes.  Her tone serious, Jeannie asked, "Are you and Mer finally together?"

John blinked.  She knew, too?

Jeannie rolled her eyes.  "Please, I can see right through you.   _Both_ of you.  You two think you're so good at hiding things, but you're not.  You're really not."

He didn't know what to say.  He glanced behind her to see Kaleb grinning at him as he sipped his coffee.  Madison wasn't paying any attention, too busy eating pancakes.  His attention returned to Jeannie and he said, "Um......yes?"

She shook her head.  "Look, I like Jennifer.  I do, but she's not the right one for Mer.  You are, John.  I'm so glad you said something."

"Ah, well, considering where things stand right now, I think I'm glad I did, too."

"You better be," Rodney said, coming up next to them.  He took John's hand and squeezed it before frowning at his sister who had let go of John's shoulders.  "Are you torturing my boyfriend already?"

John coughed.  Boyfriend?  They'd been together less than a day!

Rodney frowned at him.  "Really?  You're going to freak out over a sillly label?"

"Military," John said pointedly.

Rodney rolled his eyes.  "Repealed."

"Years of ingrained habits?" John tried.

Rodney eyed him then smirked and said, "Well, I will enjoy breaking you of said habits."

John flushed hot at the implications in Rodney's eyes.

Jeannie laughed, her hand over her mouth, eyes dancing with amusement when John looked at her.  "Oh, you two are perfect for each other!  Didn't I say so, honey?"

Kaleb dutifully agreed, "Yes, you did, dear."

John felt his blush deepen and reached up with his free hand to rub the back of his neck.

"Well," Rodney said, turning back to his sister, "if you're done torturting John, do you mind, Jeannie?  John and I have several years of catching up to do."

Jeannie leaned forward to kiss first Rodney, then John, on the cheek.  "Welcome to the family—officially.  I'm so happy you two are finally together.  But," and she wagged a finger at them both, "if you hurt him—and this goes for both of you—I will make you regret it."

John smiled at her.  Now that he could promise.  And did.  "Don't worry, Jeannie.  I feel pretty damn lucky right now that I don't think it'll be possible for me to screw it up."

Rodney scoffed, "Like I'd let you go."

John shot a quick glance around the room, grateful to see most people had gone back to their breakfasts.  Feeling slightly more comfortable, John leaned in for a quick kiss.  Seeing Rodney's smile as he pulled back settled him and he finally felt happy, for the first time in a long time, he felt truly happy.  "Let's get out of here.  Catch you later, Jeannie, Kaleb."

Jeannie waved as Rodney pulled John towards the door.

"Now," Rodney said as they stepped into the hall, "this room that was supposedly set aside.....where might it be?"

* * *

“If there is anyone here today who can show just cause as to why Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard and Dr. Rodney McKay should not get married, please, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Chuckles flitted through the audience and John quirked an eyebrow at Rodney.  Sounding a little sheepish, he said, “This is probably when I should have done this a year ago.”

Rodney grinned and squeezed John’s hands.  He was still thrilled that John had insisted “Meredith” be omitted from the ceremony—not everyone needed to know what his first name actually was.  He’d been teased enough because of it.  “Yeah,” he said now, “that would have been better than your admittedly not terrible best man speech.”

John flashed him a grin and Rodney took a moment to admire how handsome John looked in full military dress.  Seriously, how did he get so lucky as to have John return his feelings?  And to think, they could have been having sex for years if one of them had only said something earlier. 

“No backing out now, I don’t care what anyone says,” Rodney warned him.  “You’re stuck with me.”

John’s grin softened.  “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Rodney still eyed him for a moment before turning to the priest and saying, “Well?  Are you going to finish or what?”

John rolled his eyes but kept his mouth shut.

The priest opened his mouth then paused to eye them and the audience pointedly.  “Repeat after me.”

Rodney didn’t really pay attention to what was said next.  He knew it was the vows but he was too focused on the love he could see in John’s eyes, on John’s fingers brushing against his as John slid the ring onto his third finger.  On the flutter in his stomach as John vowed, “I do.”

Rodney repeated what he was told to, watched John breathe in sharply as Rodney slid the ring onto John’s third finger.  Was it his imagination or was John leaning in?  Rodney vowed, “I do.”

The priest took their left hands, joined them together and proclaimed, “By the powers vested in me by the City of the Ancestors, I now pronounce you married.  You may kiss your husband.”

“Finally,” Rodney grumbled.

John chuckled as he wrapped a hand around Rodney’s neck and kissed him tenderly.  Rodney let him keep it gentle.  Besides, they both knew it was going to be anything but gentle later tonight.  They pulled apart amid cheers.  John looked embarrassed—still uncomfortable with PDA, after all this time, Rodney thought fondly, leaning forward to kiss him again.

“Come on,” Rodney murmured, “if I remember correctly, there’s supposed to be real cake waiting for us.”

John shot him a grateful look and they walked through the crowd hand in hand.  Once they were inside and out of sight, John pinned him against the wall and kissed him thoroughly.

Breathless, Rodney said, “If you keep doing that, we’re not going to make it to the reception.”

“That’s the goal,” John responded, brushing his lips against Rodney’s cheek.

“We have to go,” Rodney said.  “They made real cake.”

Groaning, John dropped his forehead onto Rodney’s shoulder.  “Do we have to?”

Rodney chuckled, holding John close.  “Stop whining.  And no alcohol for you.  Not after last time.”

“No repressed feelings to blurt out this time,” John retorted without raising his head.

Rodney shifted to better accommodate his weight.  God, he loved John Sheppard.  He loved that John was a badass warrior.  He loved that John was smart enough to keep up with him.  He loved that John was as much of a nerd as he was.  He loved that John took care of him when he lost track of time in the labs, when they were off world.  He loved that John let all his walls fall when it was just the two of them.

Loved that John was able to be vulnerable with him.  Rodney pressed his lips to John’s temple.  “An hour,” he compromised.  “One hour and cake and then we can slip away.  Okay?”

John sighed, his breath leaving a warm spot on Rodney’s shoulder.  “Fine,” he mumbled reluctantly and straightened.

Rodney pulled John’s mouth to his.  When they pulled apart, John was smiling a little.  Rodney put a hand on his cheek, rubbing a thumb along John’s bottom lip.  “I love you, John.”

John twisted his head to kiss Rodney’s thumb.  “I love you, Rodney.”  His gaze heated.  “An hour, right?”

Rodney shook his head, amused.  “Minimum.”

“Deal.”

As they headed back down the hall, Rodney said, “I can’t believe I have to negotiate with you to attend your own wedding reception.”

John tangled their fingers together.  “I can’t believe you wanted to go through with it again.”

Rodney cast him a sidelong look.  “It’s different when you’re with the right person.  As I’m sure you know.”

John arched an eyebrow, the sounds of the party getting started reaching them.  “Yeah?  You think you found the right person this time?”

Rodney stopped them just inside the doors, pulled John into a kiss and said, “I found the right person years ago.  Just took a while to get on the same page.”

“It may have taken a little longer than we’d have liked, but we got here in the end,” John said with a smile.

“And that’s all that matters,” Rodney finished. 

 

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End. Thanks for reading!


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